


You Gotta Have Love To Love

by PhoenixSong13



Category: The Monkees
Genre: Angst, M/M, Suicide Attempt, beach bums, rocky relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-10 01:05:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18649789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixSong13/pseuds/PhoenixSong13
Summary: When Davy Gets a Job On a Film Set, A Misunderstanding Almost Ruins His And Mike's Relationship.Can The Tenuous Hold They Have On Each Other Survive The Fallout?





	You Gotta Have Love To Love

**Author's Note:**

> This Is Only My Second Story, In This Genre. Please Be Gentle. It May be A Little Out Of Character.

You Gotta Have Love to Love

 

It was a pretty typical Monday afternoon in the lives of Mike Nesmith and Davy Jones. They had been cruising around in the Monkeemobile, applying for jobs wherever they came across a 'Help Wanted’ sign. Their reputations obviously preceded them, however, as they had been practically thrown out on their ears at every stop.

 

The situation was dire. Sure, they were musicians, but lately, that wasn't paying the rent or putting food on the table. 

 

Davy had the classified ads spread across his legs in the passenger seat. He had already crossed out the places they had tried. There were very few businesses they hadn't tried yet and the paper was almost black with the x-outs.

 

“This is crackers. There must be SOMETHING we're good at that isn't so hard,” the smaller British man grumbled out. “Micky's got a job as a clown at birthday parties and Peter's a companion at the old folks’ home. There has to be something.” 

 

Mike reached out and patted Davy's knee through the newspaper. “We'll find something, babe. If not today, maybe tomorrow. Have a little faith,” he replied evenly.

 

Davy was grousing. “I do have a little faith. Very little.”

 

Mike pulled the car into a parking spot and put it in park. He turned in his seat to look at Davy, regarding him with dark brown eyes. Every now and then, Davy was kind of a drag. He could be a hell of a negative Nancy when the mood struck him. He reached out and touched Davy's chin. 

 

“Babe. Don't be so down. We aren't out yet, we can do this. Put some trust in me, okay?” Mike said softly. He glanced around to make sure no one was looking before leaning in and pressing a kiss to Davy's lips. It was quick and chaste, yet it relaxed the Englishman. He let out a breath and smiled up at Mike sheepishly.

 

“Sorry, love. I don't mean to be such a pain. I'm just disgusted with this workforce. It's nothing personal,” Davy said softly, reaching down and clasping the taller man's hand under the line of sight through the window. 

 

Mike stroked the soft skin of Davy's palm with his thumb. “It's okay. It's stressful, I get that. But you're not on your own here. You've got me, honey child, like always. I love you.”

 

They had been dating in secret for about 5 months and Davy never got tired of hearing that from his lover. It reminded him of just how fortunate he was. He truly loved the other man and he knew he was a lucky guy. 

 

“I know. I love you too, dearest. So much.” Davy brought his hand up and kissed their joined fingers.

 

Mike smiled and got out of the car, stretching his long legs. Davy also got out, putting a quarter in the parking meter. They were outside Gleeson's Hamburger Stand and Mike had enough to get them a couple of cheeseburgers and a Coke to share. Micky had given him some money before he'd left that morning for work to put in for fuel for the Monkeemobile, but the tall Texan had kept back a little so he could treat his boyfriend.

 

He was haunching at the bit himself to find a good job. He desperately wanted to take Davy on a romantic date since they had been flat broke around Valentine's Day. Mike had had to hock a guitar just to get Davy a gift. He knew they couldn't do anything too overt, but dinner at a nice sit down place, maybe catching a flick at the drive-in, was anything two friends would do. If they necked a little in the dark, no one had to know. 

 

They went in and Mike ordered food and a drink. He was able to buy an order of french fries for them to share as well. They parked themselves in a booth while they waited for their order.

 

Mike leaned his head back and let out a breath. “Man am I beat. You wanna drive home, babe?” He knew what the answer was going to be, it was always the same.

 

“Nah, American driving confuses me,” came the expected reply. 

 

Mike glanced at Davy, whose eyes were settled on Mike's throat and lower. He knew that the Englishman's gaze was on the sizeable hickey that he had left on Mike's chest the night before. It had been hidden under the buttoned shirt he had put on for job hunting, but he'd shed the tie and opened the collar when they had quit for the day. It was a dark purple blossoming across pale skin.

 

“You're never gonna get unconfused if you don't drive here, y'know. You say no everytime. One might think you don't know how to drive, David.”

 

The older male was teasing, he really didn't think that at all. He had heard that learning to drive a different way from how you were taught initially was very challenging and Santa Monica was a pretty crazy place to drive in. He figured it intimidated Davy.

 

He didn't expect the frozen expression that graced the Brit's features or the deer-in-the-headlights wideness of his eyes. Davy tried to look away but Mike had already seen the truth.

 

He sat forward, palms flat on the table. “Are you puttin’ me on? You can't drive?”

 

Davy stuttered over his words as he quickly tried to come up with an excuse, but finally he just tapered off into silence. He let out a breath and looked down at his hands.

 

“Alright, no. I can't drive. My grandfather always had a driver take us around and he put more into me learning how to ride horses than how to drive a car. When I came here, I got by on cabs and walking. Then I met you fellas and we got this car. You've always driven so it never seemed important. Micky can drive too so it wasn't a big thing.” A thought crossed Davy's mind and the look on his face was so gosh darn pitiful that it almost broke Mike's heart. “Even Peter can drive and he's an idiot.”

 

Mike snorted and quickly covered it as a cough. Before he could think of a reply, their order came up and Mike went to grab the tray. When he came back, he scooted in beside Davy and took his hand under the table where no one could see. 

 

“It's not that bad. I could teach you, if you want. We'll go out this weekend and I'll give you some lessons.” Mike squeezed Davy's fingers. 

 

Davy chewed on a fry thoughtfully. “You'd really do that for me, Mike?”

 

“Sure. My mama taught me and she did a pretty good job, if I do say so myself. I'll be glad to learn ya a few things,” the Texan replied, smiling affectionately at the smaller man. 

 

Davy smiled back and grabbed up a cheeseburger, unwrapping it and taking a bite. Mike felt warm against his hip and it made him feel better. Mike had that way about him, making him smile when he wanted to frown, laugh when he wanted to cry. That was something he loved dearly about the other man. 

 

“Thanks… I'd appreciate it, really. It'd be groovy to get my license here.”

 

Mike had started on his own cheeseburger, thoughtful as he chewed slowly. “We could take Micky too… He's got his license.”

 

Davy turned his head sharply enough that Mike swore he heard his neck crack. “No! No… Just you. Micky takes corners too fast. Remember last week? He almost ran Mrs. Harmon over!”

 

“So he got distracted…”

 

“By Peter's hand on his knee. If we took Micky, Peter would be right there with him. No, thank you. I would like to live,” Davy drawled out. “Micky is a dangerous man when he's in love.”

 

Mike giggled softly and covered his mouth. That wasn't untrue. Micky had become more accident prone since he and Peter had officially started dating on New Year's and that was saying something. Micky was a bonafide klutz.

 

“Alright, just the two of us then. We can go out by the beach where there's not too much sand, away from the water. It'll be fun.”

 

The two men sat and ate in silence for a while. It was almost a banquet in comparison to what they usually ate and the company was more than agreeable. It was like a small date and they enjoyed it.

 

And yet, there was something plaguing Davy's thoughts.

 

“Mike?”

 

“Yeah, babe?”

 

The smaller man looked up at his lover through thick eyelashes. “What if I'm terrible?”

 

Mike stood up and threw their trash away, returning the tray. Davy joined him at the door. 

 

“Don't be so worried. Driving a car is easier than riding a bicycle.” Mike opened the door for Davy and followed him out. “You're not gonna to be terrible.”

 

************************

 

He was terrible. Thank heavens Mike had suggested the beach, as they had almost hit a couple of beach goers and Davy drove into a sand dune. Mike couldn't even think about what might have happened in the city.

 

The Brit had come to a stop in the middle of an empty stretch of sand. He had his forehead against the wheel and his eyes closed.

 

“I'm absolute rubbish. Rubbish. I dunno why I thought I could learn how to drive,” he groaned, refusing to look at his boyfriend.

 

Mike, who had a death grip on his seat, tried to be reassuring.

 

“No! No, you're not rubbish. You just need to practice, is all. You're really good for a first timer.”

 

It sounded like a lie even to Mike's ears.

 

“You don't have to try and make me feel better, love. I'm awful.” Davy finally looked up and he kind of looked on the verge of tears.

 

The Texan reached over and cupped the Englishman's cheek. He didn't want his lover to feel bad about this. It was only his first attempt at driving after all. 

 

“Honey child, it's not that bad. No one is perfect the very first try. If Peter can do it, you can. We just have to keep trying,” he said. “My first time behind the wheel, I ran over my Ma's begonias. So don't panic.”

 

Davy sat back, a small smile playing at his lips at his lover. He could imagine the hell he must have caught at destroying his mother's flowers. Mrs. Nesmith was a kind if stern woman. 

 

Before the Brit could reply, this skinny guy in beach wear came running up to them in the car. He looked excited and a little bit manic. 

 

“Hey, you guys! I’m glad I finally caught you! Your driving is atrocious!” he said to Davy, looking positively gleeful.

 

Davy, on the other hand, looked a little crestfallen at that. Mike felt a very strong desire to hit the jackass. 

 

“Yeah, I’m very much aware of that fact, thanks,” Davy responded gloomily.

 

“Now listen here…” Mike started, that protectiveness he had over Davy swelling in his chest. 

 

But the guy quickly held up his hands placatingly. “Wait a minute, wait a minute… I don't mean that in a bad way. You're perfect for what we're looking for!”

 

Davy and Mike glanced at each other before Mike spoke. 

 

“Perfect for what, exactly?”

 

“The motion picture I'm shooting! It's called 'Beach Bimbos’ and I need a really crummy driver to do the stunts. The star can drive, but his method acting won't allow him to drive poorly. Whaddya say? Wanna be in pictures?”

 

The Englishman frowned deeply. “I don't think I want the whole world to know I can't drive…”

 

The guy leaned against the car, eagerness in his eyes. “Not even if I paid you $300 a day and you'd be working seven days? Plus, I swear to you no one will see your face and we don't have to credit you if it really bothers you.”

 

Davy’s eyes got big and he started doing quick math to himself. “$300 times 7 is...ooh!” He squeaked out weakly. “That's a lot of money… but not quite enough to put my terrible driving on film. $500 and you've got a deal.”

 

The man only hesitated for a second before he nodded. “$500 a day for 7 days. Sure. No problem.”

 

Mike was a little skeptical about it. There were many times they had been promised a lot of money and been scammed or swindled. If it sounded like it was too good to be true, it probably was.

 

“If he agreed, could he get it in writing? Can he bring his lawyer?” Mike asked, leaning forward.

 

Without hesitation, the guy replied, “Of course. I'll write up a contract and if it doesn't meet with your lawyer's approval, I'll rewrite it. Can you be back here tomorrow morning at 10?”

 

Davy was thoughtful for a while before he finally nodded. “Yeah, okay. I'll be here with my lawyer. I'm Davy Jones. I don't have a driver's licence, just so you're aware. Will that be a problem?” He held out his hand.

 

The man shook it cordially. “I'm Dino Capparetti. That's not a problem at all. We'll be working in a pretty closed area. I will see you tomorrow bright and early.”

 

Dino took off in the other direction, waving to a group just down the way in the sand. It looked like a genuine film crew from what Mike could see from his vantage point, but he wasn't ready to approve of it yet.

 

Davy turned to his boyfriend and smiled. “So are you going to be my lawyer or am I employing Dolenz and Tork, Attorneys at Law?”

 

“Naw, I'll be your lawyer. It'll give me an excuse to hang around and make sure you don't run off with some beach hunk or something,” Mike teased, leaning back into the seat.

 

He was kidding and yet… he wasn't. He loved Davy with his entire being but he still didn't trust him 100%. Davy loved love and there were a lot of more handsome candidates out in the world. 

 

The smaller Englishman looked a little miffed at Mike's suggestion that he would think of being unfaithful and smacked Mike's arm lightly. He pouted as he replied. 

 

“And what is that supposed to mean? You're the only man I want to be with. Micky offered for the four of us to…” He turned dark red and couldn't finish his sentence. “Well, I told him no. You're the only one I want and I don't want to share you. So before you go accusing me of--- mmphhh!”

 

He was cut off as Mike captured his lips, pressing in against him and pushing the button to close the convertible top. Davys hand came up, cupping the side of Mike's face as he opened his mouth to him. Mike loved how he always tasted of Ipana.

 

Davy knew they were taking a risk kissing in public like this, but it wasn't as bad as in the city. Beach folks were a little more understanding about free love. Besides that, Mike's kisses made his heart rate increase and he loved it. 

 

After a long, lazy moment of sweet kissing, Mike leaned their foreheads together. He touched his lips to the bridge of Davy's nose. 

 

“I was teasing you, babe. I love you and I know you wouldn't do that. I don't want to share you either, for the record.”

 

Davy's reaction had shushed that nasty little voice that kept telling Mike he couldn't trust the Englishma n. He really had to just start listening to his heart rather than his head. They weren't going to make it if Mike didn't learn to accept that he was enough for Davy, that Davy was satisfied with him. That feeling of not being good enough spoke more to Mike's insecurities than Davy's infidelities. 

 

Davy moved so he was lying against Mike's chest, the older Monkee's arms around him. He knew that Mike had a few trust issues when it came to him, after all the girls Davy had gone through at one time. What Mike didn't understand was that their relationship had cooled the desires the Brit had had. He didn't want love from many people, just Mike. The sweet Texan was the only person Davy wanted to share a bed and his life with.

 

He had fallen head over heels in love with Michael Nesmith in the last few months.

 

Mike sighed after a time and kissed Davys temple. “I'm sorry… I really do know you've been faithful. I just…” He didn't quite know how to put it into words and so he floundered a little. 

 

Davy spoke up, his voice even and forgiving. “I understand. I really do. I don't have a great track record so I can forgive you for feeling this way. I do love you though. You're the only person I want to be with. Please believe that.”

 

Mike looked down into that gentle, loving face and couldn't find any reason not to believe him. If Davy wasn't serious, they wouldn't be together. When Davy got bored, that was the end. 

 

“I do. I love you.”

 

They traded lazy, soft kisses for the remainder of the afternoon until they finally decided they needed to be homeward bound. They had a somewhat early start in the morning and Mike knew that sleep was not in their immediate plans. He planned to remind Davy of who he shared a bed with. They finally went to sleep around one am, sated and content in the embrace they shared.

 

************************

 

They made it to the shooting location by 9:45 the next morning. Mike was dressed in a nice suit, complete with his green hat perched on his dark hair. Davy looked nervous, but managed to hold good conversation on the way out. 

 

They pulled up to the shooting location and Dino Capparetti came over, a paper in hand. He looked quite happy that Davy had come and helped the smaller man out of the vehicle.

 

“Glad you could make it, Mr. Jones! We really need to start shooting the car scenes…”

 

Davy held up a hand. “Just a minute, Mr. Capparetti. I would like to look at my contract and so would my lawyer, Mr. Nesmith.”

 

Mike stepped up and Dino looked him up and down. “Who are you?”

 

The Texan acted affronted. “What do you mean, who am I? I’m his lawyer! Who am I? Who are you?”

 

“Aren't you the guy who was with him yesterday? You didn't mention that you were his lawyer.”

 

Mike was ready for that. “I keep my occupation under wraps. Most people don't like lawyer's, ya dig? I keep friends that way.”

 

That seemed to satisfy the director, who nodded a bit. “That makes sense. Well, here's the contract for you to take a gander at. I think you'll find everything in order.”

 

Davy and Mike stood side by side, reading through the contract. It all seemed straightforward, even the small print. Everything they had talked about the day before was there in black and white, including the salary and shooting schedule.

 

“What d'ya think, Mike? It looks good to me…” Davy said softly, glancing upwards. 

 

Mike read through it a couple of times but found nothing shady about it. He handed Davy a pen. 

 

“Looks good to me, babe. Go ahead and sign your life away.” 

 

Davy signed on the line pointed out to him and Dino did the same. He sent it to be copied and then put an arm around the Brit's shoulder and walked toward the stunt car, explaining what he was looking for. Mike watched his hand travel lower to the Englishman's butt and had to steady himself so that he didn't cold cock the guy. Some people were just overly friendly and it wasn't like Davy was reciprocating.

 

In fact, he'd shot Mike a startled look and attempted to move a distance away from the director. Capparetti just moved closer.

 

By midday, Mike was sorely tempted to run the bastard over with the car. He had continually kept touching Davy inappropriately and getting way too close for Mike's comfort. Davy had managed to get away from him but Mike could see that he was wearing out.

 

On the plus side, Davy's driving had improved in the last 6 hours. Mike was pretty sure he could qualify for his permit now. That would be something to do once he got paid. He was getting good reaction times and started having to drive poorly on purpose. 

 

When Dino finally called it quits, the Texan had never been so happy to be heading home. Davy had agreed to be back by noon the next day and they had shagged ass as fast as they could. Mike just wanted away. 

 

The Englishman had noticed that his boyfriend was tense. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, his lips pursed together in a tight line. Davy scooted close to his side, reaching up and taking one of Mike's hands. It was dark enough that he wasn't worried about anyone taking notice of them. 

 

“Are you alright, love?” he asked quietly, leaning his cheek against the taller man's shoulder.

 

Mike glanced down at his lover for a second and let out a breath. He laced their fingers together and leaned his own cheek against the top of the smaller man's head.

 

“I don't like that guy. He's too touchy with you.” He realized he sounded like he was whining but he couldn't help it. His lover had been touched and flirted with too much in front of him for one day.

 

“I'm not all that fond of him meself. I think he wants to shag me and I'm not down with that,” Davy replied. “Only one man gets to get naked with me and it's not Dino Capparetti. Only six more days, though. I'm sure I can hold him off that long.”

 

Mike played with Davy's ring on his pinky, the one he had hocked his one guitar for. That hard been Davys Valentine's Day present, a silver band bearing a small bit of turquoise. The stone had come from an earring that had been his mother's, one that she had lost the match to when he had been around 6 years old. She had given it to Mike and told him that stone would be important one day.

 

He had always thought she meant he could sell it if he needed the money. Instead, he had taken it to the jeweler and had a ring made for his beloved, their birthstone as the center. On one side of the turquoise was engraved a D, on the other an M. It made him proud to see Davy wear it.

 

“Well, if you can't hold him off, I'll just have to get a little bit rough with him, that's all. I might do it anyway, as a warning,” Mike replied, finally letting himself relax as he took in Davy's words, the disgust evident in his voice. His boyfriend was his and his alone. 

 

The Brit chuckled softly and placed a soft kiss on the Texan's cheek. He really loved the possessiveness from Mike, it showed him what he meant to the other man. He knew that he was loved and desired.

 

“If he puts his hand on me rump again, I'll let you,” he said, settling comfortably at Mike's side. 

 

It was Mike's turn to chuckle. “Like I need your permission. That rump is mine and I'll fight him to the death for it.”

 

Davy felt warmth spread through him and leaned in, murmuring in his ear, “Pull over… I have an emergency.”

 

Mike did as he was told, pulling to the side of the road, killing the engine and lights. He turned and looked at his lover, who had a deep desire in his eyes, lust apparent in his features.

 

“What kind of an emergency is it, honey child?” Mike's voice was deep, hungry.

 

Davy's hand came up, tangling in dark locks and pulling Mike with him as he backed into the passenger door. Mike slid between Davy's thighs, coming within kissing reach.

 

“I need mouth-to-mouth, love. Desperately… Only you can take care of me…”

 

Mike's mouth descended on Davy's as he pushed his tongue deep between the smaller man's lips. Davy gasped and moaned softly, drawing his lover in.

 

It was quite a while before they made it home. 

 

************************

 

The next two days were a real trial for Mike's patience. He had to watch the lecherous director continue making advances on Davy but dared not say anything for fear of outing them both. He had to suffer in silence. They really needed the money, at least that's what he kept telling himself. 

 

The crew pretty much let him hang around without incident. He would sit and watch Davy film his scenes and then the two of them would sit on the hood of the Monkeemobile and sing to Mike's guitar strumming. They'd had a few people stop and listen, even giving them a few bucks. 

 

Mike lived for these all too brief moments. He was happiest with Davy and singing was something they both really loved. The crew didn't say anything about it in the background because it made the atmosphere authentic. It felt like a real day at the beach.

 

They were in the middle of “Daydream Believer” when Dino called Davy over to his dressing room to discuss the next day's filming. It left Mike on his own, playing out the chorus idly.

 

“You know, you guys are pretty good,” said a voice behind Mike. 

 

The Texan turned to find Jack Keppler, the music coordinator of the movie leaning against the passenger door. He was an older man with a kind smile and friendly eyes. He'd been one of the people who had given them money for playing. 

 

“Gee, thanks, Mr. Keppler. We're actually part of a band called The Monkees. We have a drummer and another guy who plays a variety of instruments. We do alright, I guess,” Mike replied, sliding off the car hood. 

 

Keppler smiled. “You got any demos on you? I'd like to hear you guys.”

 

Mike got into the backseat, pulling a small recording machine from under the seat. He smiled a little sheepishly as he handed it over to Keppler. 

 

“I always carry a demo with us. Wishful thinking, ya know.”

 

Jack laughed and slung an arm around Mike's shoulders. It wasn't weird, almost fatherly, and Mike felt at ease. 

 

“I like your thinking. You remind me of me when I was a young pup myself. C'mon, let's go take a listen to this in the sound tent,” Keppler said, leading the taller man to said tent. 

 

Fifteen minutes later, they had listened to the demo three times. They had heard “Last Train to Clarksville”, “Mary, Mary”, “Take A Giant Step”, and “I'm A Believer”. Jack Keppler honest to God was enamored with the sound of the Monkees and he wasted no time in telling him so. 

 

“You boys are fantastic! Just fantastic! I've got a little proposal for you,” he said, leaning against the table, a broad smile across his face. “There's a party scene in the movie, just a little beach party. We've been trying to find a band to play it. You think your friends would be interested? The whole band?”

 

Mike could hardly believe it. They had been desperate for a gig for a while, this was a great opportunity. He was barely able to contain his excitement as he replied,

 

“Heck yeah! We've been wanting to play for a while. I know they'd be excited!”

 

Keppler grinned. “Great! We're filming the party scene tomorrow evening so get me your song list in the morning. Choose four songs that you truly want the audience to hear and remember. This could be a big thing for the Monkees. Make it count.”

 

Mike took in every word like the gospel of Matthew. He wanted nothing more than for this to be the band's big break. They had been all working their butts off to get here, after all.

 

“Four songs. Got it. I'll have that to you first thing in the morning, Mr. Keppler. Thank you again, sir!” Mike made for the tent flap and then paused. “Anything specific we should wear?”

 

“Nah. Wardrobe'll take care of you. Just make sure you're all here by 5:30 so we can run through set places and get you guys ready.”

 

The Texan thanked him yet again and headed to where there was a payphone. He quickly deposited a dime and dialed the number for the pad. In true Mike fashion, he started talking the moment Micky picked up and raced through his spiel before his time was up. 

 

“ Yeah, Micky? It's Mike. Listen, we just got offered a part as a band in this movie Davy's in so I want you and Peter to brainstorm one song apiece that you really want to be in this movie. Can't talk, gotta go, bye.” He hung up really fast, not letting Micky get a word in edgewise. He then deposited another dime and dialed a number. “Hi, Ma? It's Mike. Listen, my band just got offered a part in a movie called 'Beach Bimbos’ and it's gonna be real groovy. Tell Aunt Kate and Uncle Adam. Can't talk, gotta go, love you, bye!” 

 

He made a total of four phone calls in this fashion before deciding to return to the car. The sun was starting to set below the horizon, the orange light rippling off the clear water. Davy wasn't back yet and that concerned Mike. Usually it only took a few minutes to discuss the following day's, schedule. But, he reminded himself, they also had just been offered another job in the movie. Maybe Jack Keppler had stopped in to talk to Davy and Capparetti about it. 

 

This theory, however, was shot out of the water as Mike watched Keppler drive past him to head to his hotel. Now Mike really was worried, especially where Dino Capparetti's wandering hands were concerned.

 

Mike walked towards the director's tent. As he looked around him, he realized that everyone else had left, even the two headlining actors and the one actress. And yet, there was a light on in the tent that was casting the shadows of the director and Davy on the canvas like some bizarre film reel. 

 

The Texan froze as he watched the taller shadow of Capparetti take the smaller one of Davy Jones into its arms. Davy's hands came up, palms flat against the other man's chest. Dino's hand came up and cupped the Brit's face, drawing him in. 

 

Mike could only stare in horror as the guy who was supposed to be his, his boyfriend, his lover, tilted his head back. Their lips met and Mike felt sick to his stomach. He gripped the post of a smaller tent that sat across from Capparetti's as his legs gave out from under him.

 

It was like being punched in the gut. He couldn't breathe and his heart hammered painfully against his ribcage. His knees hit the sand and sunk in and he couldn't seem to find a solid hold anywhere. 

 

He saw them part briefly and the director's arm wrapped around Davy’s waist. He lifted the shorter man up to sit on the table, moving up between his thighs to kiss him again. 

 

Just two nights ago, Mike had been the one between those strong legs. 

 

He had to get out of there. He couldn't handle it if it went any further. Part of him wanted to go in there and fight Capparetti, to uphold his claim on the Englishman. The other part knew it was a lost cause if Davy had moved on. 

 

He tried to haul himself up onto his feet but his legs wouldn't obey at first. He found himself crawling across the sand, the need for escape strong enough that he didn't much care how he did it as long as he did. Finally, his legs got the message his brain was trying to send them and he scrambled up onto his feet and took off shakily, nearly stumbling over a water barrel in his haste. 

 

When he reached the car, it was like being on autopilot. He put the keys in the ignition, firing it up and taking off, not daring to look back as he tried to put some distance between himself and the film location. All he wanted was to be as far from there as he could get.

 

He didn't drive back to Santa Monica right then. He didn't think he could handle seeing Peter and Micky in perfect bliss at this juncture. It would be too much, too much for him. 

 

He could feel his despair trying to claw its way out of him. Shock had set in in the beginning, leaving him blank and cold. Now, however, he was starting to really feel it. It was a shaking that started at his core and shivered its way outward. He felt nauseous, afraid to stop to try and breathe, afraid breath wouldn't come. 

 

He finally pulled over along a curve in the highway, a sight-seeing location that looked out over a cliff and the water below. During the day, it was a truly beautiful place to stop and admire some of California's natural splendor. At this moment, it was a stark reminder of how alone Mike was.

 

He climbed out of the car, running to the edge, hands on the railing as he lost his fight with the donuts and sandwiches he had eaten earlier and he heaved it all up over the side of the road. He hit his knees again as he came to the end of it, his forehead resting against the cool metal of the guardrail, his breathing labored as he tried to get a handle on himself. 

 

It was only then that he realized he was crying, hot tears streaming down his flushed face. He sobbed out loud, the sound a harsh, guttural howl of pain and anguish. 

 

It just wasn't fair. Mike didn't fall in and out of love the way some people did. He loved Davy with everything in his soul, there was no one else in the world that had ever affected him like the smaller man had. Davy was his world and his world was being ripped out from under him. 

 

He squeezed his eyes shut. It wasn't real, it couldn't be real. Davy had promised him, had sworn to him that no man could ever steal him from Mike. They had gotten down together on their knees and promised each other that they would never cheat on or knowingly hurt the other. 

 

“He lied,” said that nasty little voice in the back of Mike's head. “He lied and you knew he would cheat on you eventually. You're not good enough for him or anyone. You're a lousy singer, a second-rate guitar player, and no one's first choice. You're better off dead.”

 

The Texan shivered violently at this thought and opened his eyes. He was clutching the guardrail so tightly that his knuckles were chalk white, but the grip had stopped the shaking in his fingers. The bile had left a bitter, metallic taste in his mouth but he found that he really wasn't all that bothered. He let out a breath and used the rail to pull himself up so he was perched on it. 

 

He glanced out towards the ocean. He had driven long enough that the moon, almost full in its waxing cycle, was an ivory orb of cold, silver light reflected in the black water. It was the loneliest thing he had ever seen and his heart ached for it.

 

“Standing in the lonely light of the silver moon…” he said absently, to no one at all, not even himself.

 

He sat there for a long while, not even sure himself how long the passage of time stretched into the night. He felt immobile, like a statue left to rot in an ancient ruin, a devotee to the God of Love, cast aside by his beloved Lord. He felt small and insignificant.

 

After a long time, he told that little voice, “Maybe you're right. Maybe I am better off dead.”

 

There was no response but Mike didn't need one. He knew his course of action. There was no life without Davy at his side, no world worth living in if Davy wasn't his lover. So why should he keep living if it meant living without him?

 

Another smaller, gentler voice whispered, “What if you're wrong? What if there's a reason for what you saw?”

 

That voice sounded remarkably like Davy's and Mike balked against it. 

 

“Go away. I know what I saw. There is no good reason for that. This will be better for everyone.”

 

Silence met his ears and he let his eyes slide shut, taking a breath. 

 

“Good.”

 

He stood and turned to face the ocean. He stepped on to the railing, looking out at the moon. It seemed to call him and he was ready to answer it. Maybe blissful darkness would be better than this wretched heartache. 

 

With one final breath, Mike closed his eyes and let himself fall forward.

 

************************

 

The door to the pad opened and Micky glanced up from the magazine he was reading (an old copy of Popular Mechanics) and saw that it was Mike. He also saw that the Texan was completely soaked and his lips were blue. He leapt up and hurried to his friend. 

 

“Oh man… What happened to you, Mike?! You look frozen!” he exclaimed, a big, fluffy robe somehow appearing out of thin air into his hand. He wrapped it around the other man. 

 

Mike shook his head a little, his damp hair stuck to his forehead in places. He didn't really feel like talking about it, though he was grateful for Micky's kindness. 

 

“I'm okay, Mick. I just want to go take a shower and go to bed,” he said wearily and it wasn't lost on Micky that he looked bone-tired, more exhausted and defeated than he had ever seen him. 

 

Micky nodded and wrapped the robe a little tighter around the thin Texan. He was kind of… motherly and Mike welcomed it as his own mother was in Texas. He laid a hand on Micky's arm thankfully. 

 

“Go shower and I'll bring you some warm milk when you're done. Always helped me relax as a kid,” the slightly shorter Monkee said, kindness in those gentle eyes. 

 

“Thanks, Mick…” Mike didn't trust himself to say more, so he slipped past Micky, padding in squelching shoes to the bathroom. 

 

As soon as the door was closed, Micky voiced to himself the one thing bothering him from the moment Mike had walked in. 

 

“But where the heck is Davy?”

 

Inside the bathroom, Mike took off the robe and peeled off his sodden garments. He quickly turned the hot water on and let the steam fill the room before finally letting out a sigh. He leaned back against the wall as he waited for the water to come to temperature.

 

He couldn't tell Micky he had tried to off himself. The other man would be heartbroken and want to help, invariably making a bigger mess out of things. He had a heart of gold but his methods were sometimes of the devil. 

 

He stepped under the spray of the shower and his aching muscles graciously relaxed in the hot stream of water. He tilted his head back, letting the steady rivulets run through his charcoal locks. 

 

His attempt at suicide had been… unsuccessful, to say the least. He had tried to throw himself from the cliff, thinking he would hit the rocks at the bottom and that would be that. A tad dramatic, perhaps, but effective. 

 

He hadn't counted on the little pool of water that lay hidden at the bottom of a 50 foot drop. He had plunged into it's frigid depths and then had had to hike his way back up to the car, teeth chattering the whole way.

 

Maybe that was God's way of calling him a fool. 

 

He washed his hair out and did a quick scrub down of his body. He was fairly certain no one had swam in that pool in a long time and he knew he had carried some algae home with him in his drawers. 

 

When he felt clean again, he shut the water off and put the robe on. He hadn't thought to grab a change of clothes before showering so he was truly grateful for Micky's robe. He exited the bathroom and found the curly-haired man waiting at the bottom of the spiral staircase, a mug of steaming milk in hand. 

 

In that voice he used when he tried sounding like a high-class schmuck, he said, “Lead the way, o captain, my captain!” and stood aside to let Mike pass. 

 

The Texan couldn't help but chuckle at this as he headed up the stairs. Micky had a way of cheering you up just by being himself.

 

Once up in the room he shared with Davy, he shimmied into a pair of boxers before sitting on the bed. Suddenly he didn't want to be up here. 

 

When they had paired off, Mike with Davy and Micky with Peter, they had switched rooms up and both couples had traded their single mattresses in for full size beds. Which meant that, once Davy got home, Mike would have to share the bed with him. 

 

Micky sat beside him and pressed the mug into his hands. He hadn't realized he'd started shaking again and the cup provided a warm and solid object to hold onto. Micky's shoulder was welcome against his own and he leaned into the other man. 

 

“Thank you… You're a really great best friend, you know that, right?” he murmured quietly, closing his eyes.

 

“I try my best,” Micky replied, letting his own head rest against Mike's. “Mike?” His tone was slow, as though unsure of if he should ask a question or not.

 

The Texan was pretty sure he knew what Micky was wondering. “Yeah?”

 

“Where's Davy? Why isn't he with you?”

 

After a long moment of total silence, Mike responded, “I don't know where he is… and I'd really like to not talk about it…”

 

Micky let out a breath and pressed a platonic kiss to Mike's forehead. Something was very wrong, Micky could sense it. He had known the Texan long enough to know. 

 

They had been friends since ‘56 when they had gone to the same summer camp. Micky had been 11, Mike had been 13 going on 14. They had been in the same cabin and bunked together, quickly forming a strong friendship despite how polar opposite they were. And that friendship had endured. Although Mike lived in Texas and Micky in Los Angeles, they called and wrote each other all the time. After 11 years, the best friends were well aware of one another. 

 

He wrapped an arm around Mike, pulling him against his side, partly to his chest. Mike closed his eyes, just taking in Micky's warmth and affection. He was aching and the familiarity of this, this silent and unconditional support and love, was a balm. 

 

“Drink your milk before it gets cold, babe. I'm not going anywhere,” Micky told him softly, all rare seriousness. 

 

Mike dutifully drank part of it down despite his stomach threatening to rebel again. Micky had made it for him out of care, after all. The least he could do was drink it. He finished the cup and set it on his nightstand. 

 

“Good,” Micky said and stood, coming around to kneel in front of Mike. He rested his hands on the Texan's legs, looking up at him. “What do you want from me? I'm here for you and I'll do whatever you need me to.”

 

Mike regarded him a long moment before whsipering, “I want you to stay with me. Don't leave me alone. Please.”

 

There was so much sadness in his voice and heartache. It made Micky hurt inside to see it and hear the plea. Mike was a strong man who rarely asked for anything from anyone. He sounded like a broken man. 

 

Before he could respond, they both heard the door downstairs open. Mike's eyes widened like he was caught in the headlights as they heard Davy's voice. 

 

“Mike! Where are you? Why'd you leave me there?!”

 

Micky went to get up and Mike grabbed his arm. The look in his eyes was wild and terrified. 

 

“Please don't let him come up here. Please, Mick…” he whispered frantically.

 

Utterly bewildered, Micky agreed. He knew if Mike was asking, there was a good reason. He headed down the stairs as Davy started up. 

 

“Hey, man. You don't wanna go up there. He's really sick, throwing up and stuff,” Micky said, blocking the path up. 

 

Davy's face went from irked to concerned very quickly. He tried to move past Micky but the curly-haired man wouldn't let him.

 

“Well, is he okay? Are you sure you should be up there yourself?” Davy asked, worry in his voice.

 

“Oh yeah, don't worry about me. I don't get sick like other people. He'll be okay, I think it's a 24-hour thing. I'm going to ask you to share with Peter for tonight so you don't get sick, though…”

 

Davy slowly nodded, acquiescing at this infallible argument. Something seemed off, but he decided it was just in his mind. Mike was probably very sick. 

 

“Yeah okay… Tell him I love him and I hope he feels better…”

 

Micky nodded. “I will. Sorry about this.”

 

Davy waved him off and went back down the stairs. “It's okay. I just want him to feel better. Night, Micky. Thanks for taking care of him.”

 

Micky waited until he heard the bedroom door shut before he went back to Mike. The Texan was laying on his side now and Micky was shocked to see tears streaking down his face. He wasn't making a sound, but the tears were still falling thickly. 

 

The other man sat beside Mike, reaching down and wiping the tears away. This was a very serious situation and Micky felt a little helpless. Without knowing what had happened, he didn't know how to help his friend.

 

Mike moved until he was curled around Micky, his head in his lap. The other Monkee stroked his hair and murmured soft words of consolation, hoping he was helping in some way.

 

Over time, the Texan gently tugged at Micky until he had lain down with Mike, facing him with his arms around him. Mike had his head resting on Micky's chest, his eyes closed. 

 

They laid in silence for so long that Micky was sure Mike had fallen asleep. It wasn't until he heard his voice, low and deep from no use, that Micky realized he was still conscious.

 

“Micky, is there something wrong with me?”

 

The other man frowned, not sure of the context of the question. He was sure something was wrong, yes, but was that what Mike was asking?

 

He pulled back to look into the Texan's eyes. “What do you mean, babe?”

 

Those dark brown irises were haunted as Mike searched for how to phrase the question again. “Am I that terrible a person? Have I done something wrong in my life so that I'm not deserving of real love? Is there something wrong with me?”

 

Oh. Oh. Micky stared at him for a moment as a slow realization dawned, finally asking, “What happened? Why don't you want to see Davy and why are you asking me this?”

 

Mike glanced away from Micky's eyes, looking more over his shoulder at the door. He didn't speak for the longest time and Micky didn't push, letting him get his thoughts together. 

 

“I… I caught Davy kissing that bastard… the director. He was supposed to be talking to him about tomorrow and the scenes and everything. He didn't come back while I was talking to Jack Keppler so I went looking. I wish I hadn't… it was just their shadows but I know Davy's silhouette. He was letting him hold him… kiss him… God, why me?”

 

Micky wasn't sure what was worse, the silent tears or this shattered weeping that seemed to start from Mike's very soul. His shoulders shook and Micky tried to quell this new wave of emotion. He pulled Mike against him, trying to keep his own feelings at bay.

 

He believed that Mike had seen what he said he had but something seemed… off kilter. He wasn't sure why, but he just knew that things didn't feel that cut and dried. Davy used to be a bit of a playboy, but the stream of girls had completely stopped and Micky knew that Davy wasn't really into other guys. He had confessed to Micky that no other men had ever appealed to him. So this just didn't feel right.

 

He'd ponder it out later, however. Mike needed him to fully be there right now. 

 

“Mike, it's not you. You're a great guy, funny and smart. You're really talented too. This has less to do with you and more to do with him. Don't beat yourself up over this…” he told him, petting his hair.

 

“I've done everything for him… everything. I would give my soul for him. I've given my soul to him… and he tosses me off for some two-bit, 'B’ movie director. How is that fair, Mick?”

 

Micky leaned up on his elbow, looking down at his friend. He didn't want to take sides without hearing Davy's, but Mike was in a bad way. He needed reassurance.

 

“It isn't fair, you're right. But it's not on you if that's what's happening. That's on Davy. And if he can't see the incredible catch he has in you, then he never deserved you. You are not the one at fault here.”

 

Mike didn't say anything at first and Micky wondered wildly if he had gone too far. Then…

 

“I wish we had been together sometimes, Micky… I really do…”

 

Micky breathed out and kissed the bridge of Mike's nose, then his lips, lingering only for a moment, a reminder of one ill-fated situation from six years ago. “That's the broken heart talking, babe. We're like brothers, it would never work. I do love you though. Remember that.”

 

Mike seemed to relax a little at Micky's words, his body losing some tension. He knew that Micky was right. He rested his head against the curly-haired man's chest again. 

 

“I know. I love you too, babe… Thank you for staying with me.”

 

“Anytime.”

 

It wasn’t much longer after that that Mike fell asleep. He was sore and exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Micky was a comfort and familiar. If he had had to face the night alone, he probably couldn’t have slept at all. 

 

Micky, on the other hand, lay awake for several hours before he could sleep. His mind was a tornado, trying to think about whether he believed that Davy had meant to hurt Mike or not. He found that he didn’t think that Davy had fallen out of love with the Texan and he vowed to get to the bottom of this situation the next day. He knew the future of the Monkees rested on it. 

 

He finally drifted off around 2am and slept fitfully, dreaming about Peter telling him he wasn’t as good as Davy in bed. He blamed the whole mess on Dino Capparetti and he hadn’t even met the man yet. 

 

************************

 

Micky was up long before Mike, his dreams having gone from bad to worse. Now he was concerned about taking Peter anywhere near that overly-handsy director, having felt as though one of his dreams was prophetic. Peter was too cute for his own good at times and Capparetti seemed to like cute guys. 

 

One thing he was almost completely sure of after his restless night was that Davy was a victim of the director somehow. The more he thought about it, the more he knew that was the only thing that made sense. Davy was head over heels in love with the Texan, Micky knew it just looking at him. And his reaction to Mike's “illness” hadn't been the reaction of a man who didn't care or wasn't in love. His eyes told everything, his heart was on his sleeve. 

 

As Micky stood at the stove, pondering his thoughts while frying up some bacon and eggs, he felt two strong, familiar arms wrap around his chest from behind. Peter buried his face in Micky's shoulder and sighed happily. 

 

“Now it feels right,” he said decidedly , kissing the back of his lover's neck. 

 

Micky turned, wrapping his own arms around Peter. He kissed the blond deeply, feeling something in his soul reconnect. When he pulled back, he was smiling. 

 

“Good morning, baby. How'd you sleep?” He brushed hair away from Peter's face lovingly. 

 

Peter frowned and Micky felt a swoop of worry go through his stomach. He sincerely disliked when his boyfriend frowned, his smiles were the sunniest light in his world. 

 

“Not too well. I missed your snores. Why'd you have me bunk with Davy?” That Peter Pout was starting. 

 

“Mike wasn't feeling too good. He asked me to stay with hi--- hey, I don't snore!” he exclaimed indignantly, his brain catching up to the conversation.

 

“Yes, you do. Really softly. I like the sound, it's better than Davy crying,” the blond responded.

 

That brought Micky up short. “He was crying?”

 

Peter nodded and looked thoughtful. “He was really quiet. He never said anything to me, just faced the wall and cried. Did he and Mike fight? Is that why Mike wasn't feeling good? I'd feel pretty sick if you and I had a fight…”

 

Sometimes Peter's intuition was almost on par and it always scared Micky when it was. The blond always seemed like a bit of an airhead so it always threw the curly-haired man off balance when he wasn't.

 

Before he could reply, Davy came out of the bedroom. There were dark circles under his eyes and they were red and puffy. A surefire sign of a crying jag. 

 

“Your bacon is burning, Micky,” he said flatly, pulling out the milk from the fridge and the canister of Ovaltine from the cupboard.

 

“Ahhh!” Micky turned and pulled the pan off the stove. Indeed, it was starting to look a little charcoaled and he grimaced. “Dang it…! That's what I get for dividing my attention.”

 

Peter patted him on the back. “It doesn't look too bad. I'll eat it, Mick.”

 

Micky sighed. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better, but this bacon is a lost cause. The eggs are fluffy and the toast a pretty golden brown though, so breakfast isn't a complete disaster. Want some, Davy?”

 

The Brit fixed him with an indecipherable look. For some reason, Micky felt like a little kid who hadn't eaten his vegetables and was now faced with a very unhappy mother. He glanced away as he became uncomfortable.

 

“No, thanks. I'll just drink my breakfast,” Davy replied tersely, mixing the powder into a glass of milk. “Ta.” He took a drink of it and went to leave the kitchen just as Mike was entering. 

 

They stared at each other in awkward silence for a full minute before Mike cleared his throat. He spoke to the room at large. 

 

“I'm glad everyone's here. We have a gig tonight, a beach party scene in 'Beach Bimboes’. Jack Keppler really liked our sound and asked me to give him a list of four songs. So I need y'all to pick a song each in the next half hour or so, so I can get it to him for tonight. Choose wisely, these songs will be in theaters everywhere. I'll be back down here in a bit,” he said, his hands in his pockets. “I'm still not feeling so great so I'm trying to rest before tonight.”

 

Davy caught his arm as he started to head back upstairs. He stretched up and kissed Mike's cheek. The Texan froze but, to his credit, he didn't pull away for which Micky was thankful. 

 

“Micky told me you were pretty sick, love. I'm at least happy that you're walking around. I have to go early for a driving scene but I can call Janelle if you don't feel like you can take me,” the Englishman said softly.

 

There was an obvious war behind Mike's eyes but he managed a small smile. “That might be for the best cuz I gotta make sure we get all the equipment there and take Micky and Peter. Just think of a song before you go and let Mick know.”

 

Davy nodded, placing his hands on Mike's waist. “Okay… I love you.” He kissed Mike, up on his toes to do so. 

 

Micky could see Mike's reaction, or lack thereof. The Texan kissed him back out of habit, but there was no feeling behind it. He didn't touch Davy with his hands and he didn't move closer like he usually did. There was a hurt expression on Davy's face that he quickly covered by turning away. 

 

In a falsely cheery voice, he said, “I'll just go call Jan.”

 

He exited the room and Mike closed his eyes. His hands were balled up now and he was trying to steady himself. He finally sighed and said, “I'll be upstairs for a bit. Can you make some coffee, Mick?”

 

“Yeah sure. It'll be ready shortly,” Micky replied.

 

Mike headed back upstairs, shutting the door behind him. Peter gave Micky a very concerned look. 

 

“If they didn't fight, there's something really wrong.”

 

Micky ran a hand through his own hair. “You really have no idea.”

 

************************

 

Davy left with Janelle Galen, who was the leading lady of the movie. He didn't talk to Micky about his song choice, but left a note that said he thought that the song, “She Hangs Out” was a good choice for the movie, considering that the plot was about a girl whose ex-boyfriend started dating her younger sister. 

 

Micky added “I'm a Believer” for his choice and eventually Peter put down “Let's Dance On”. They were upbeat songs and good for a beach shindig. 

 

When Mike came back down, he approved the choices, even Davy's. As he sat and drank a cup of coffee, he added his own choice which was “Papa Gene's Blues”. Micky gave him a concerned look. 

 

“Are you sure you want to play that one? You wrote that right after you and… well, it was written for him.”

 

Mike glanced up at him and huffed softly. He took a drink and sat back. 

 

“Yeah I did write it for him. But most of our songs are love songs so what can I do? Avoid our music? Write angry things? I can't do that. I still love him.” He leaned on his hand. “That won't change overnight. Probably never will. I need to just try and move forward.”

 

Micky sat down across from him. He folded his hands on the table and regarded the Texan seriously. 

 

“Mike, what if you didn't see what you saw? What if there's a situation you're not aware of? All you saw was a kiss. Maybe nothing else happened. I believe with all my heart that Davy loves you more than anything. Talk to him…” Micky pleaded, reaching out and touching Mike's arm. “Pete said he heard our little Englishman crying last night.”

 

Mike's eyes flicked upward and then back down. His mouth bowed into a frown and Micky could see the concern flash across his features before that wall came up again.

 

“Maybe he was missing his new lover. It's not my place anymore to worry about it. I just want to get through tonight.”

 

The Texan stood and turned to the sink with his cup. Micky shivered, feeling as though a coldness were rolling off the other man. He didn't like this version of his best friend.

 

“This is crazy. You need to talk to him. Quit assuming that you know everything about…”

 

Mike slammed the cup down, causing Micky to jump. He heard the ceramic crack and cringed. 

 

“I know what I need to know!” Mike growled out, his shoulders tense. “I just… want to get through tonight. Okay?”

 

Micky couldn't answer, he was a little afraid. He knew how bad Mike's temper could be. He just nodded dumbly.

 

“I…I'm gonna call Mr. Keppler about the songs. You and Pete should get ready and start packing up the instruments. I'll help you after I get off the phone,” Mike said softly and exited to the living room to make his call. 

 

Micky stood shakily and went to the bedroom where Peter was, listening to his records and looking through some letters from his mother, who wrote to him three times a week. The brunet sat beside his boyfriend and held him close. Peter kissed his forehead worriedly.

 

“Is this going to get any better? I don't like this Mike. I could hear him. Micky, what's going on?” Peter asked quietly, lacing their fingers together.

 

Micky sighed and leaned into Peter. He felt exhausted and this wasn't even over yet. He laid his head on his lover's shoulder, closing his eyes. 

 

He came clean. He told Peter everything and felt a weight lifting off him. He needed some comfort himself and Pete was such a sensitive, sweet man. He held Micky tight through it all. 

 

“That's terrible. How awful… I can't believe Mike would think that. Davy loves him. We have to fix this, Micky. For love and honor and virtue and…”

 

Micky stopped him. “Don't overdo it. I agree with you, I just don't know how to do it. Mike's as stubborn as a mule.”

 

“I don't know either,” the blond admitted sadly. “But we have to try.”

 

“I know we do, babe. I know we do.”

 

************************

 

They got to the location by 5. It hadn't taken long to load everything up and Mike was antsy about going. It was as if he thought getting there sooner would get it over with sooner. 

 

When Davy saw them, he walked over. He tried to place a hand on Mike's arm but the Texan moved away, standing closer to Micky. The Englishman looked away as he said,

 

“Wardrobe has our costumes ready. I've already been fitted, so you fellas need to do the same. Jack said to meet him at the sound tent after.”

 

Peter spoke up. “Thanks, Davy. You're a good guy for telling us.”

 

The Brit gave him a gentle, sincere smile. “Just doing my duty, Pete. Wardrobe's over there.”

 

Mike led the way to the small tent that was jammed with three racks of costumes, a work table with a sewing machine, and three excited young ladies who quickly set to work. Mike rather felt like an over-tall Ken doll. They all were in red swim shorts and shirts with varying floral patterns. Typical beach wear and all that. The ensembles were complete with bamboo thongs. 

 

“Oh, you're so handsome,” breathed the tiny redhead working on Mike. She was lithe and sweet… and reminded him of Davy. 

 

He gave her a smile, reaching out and brushing hair away from her face. “Thanks. You're pretty groovy yourself, little mama. Unfortunately…” He paused, hesitating. “... my heart is spoken for.”

 

She frowned delicately but then she smiled up at him. She smoothed his collar down, straightening his shirt cuffs. 

 

“I'm not surprised, a good-looking guy like you. She's a very lucky girl. If I had a guy like you, I'd be afraid to let you out of the house, let alone let you be in a movie for the world to ogle.” She stepped back. “There we go. You're set. Wear those sunglasses too. They make you look cool.”

 

Mike slid his aviators down and grinned. “Thank you, that's great advice. You're a sweet girl, you'll find your Prince Charming.”

 

He left her blushing and turned to watch as Micky and Peter were finished up. Mike's shirt was blue, Micky's was red, and Peter's was purple. Mike vaguely wondered what color Davy would be in. 

 

Once they were set, the trio traipsed down to the sound tent. Jack Keppler was waiting for them.

 

“Hey, Nesmith! I'm glad that you guys made it! I'm Jack Keppler,” he introduced himself to Micky and Peter.

 

“Micky Dolenz and Peter Tork.. We're the other half of the barrel of Monkees,” Micky replied, shaking Jack's hand. “No bananas, please, we already ate.”

 

Keppler laughed, grinning. He knew he liked these boys already. 

 

“So this is how things are going to work tonight. We have a small stage set up for you boys to play on. You're playing your songs while the mainstream action is going on so your objective is to keep playing. Pay attention to me for your cues. Dino's out sick tonight so I'm the director. Just keep me in your peripherals.”

 

Mike blinked. “Capparetti isn't here?” 

 

“No, he said he wasn't even able to walk this morning. Doesn't bother me any, he's a pain in the rear. I noticed that Jones seemed a little more relaxed when I told him,” Keppler replied. He picked up a folder. “Right. This way, guys. I'll show you where to set up.”

 

Mike lagged behind a little, lost in thought. Davy was relieved? What on Earth did that mean? Was he glad that he didn't have to worry about Mike and that homewrecking asshole being in the same space? Or was Micky right, something else was going on?

 

A large part of his heart furtively hoped for that second possibility. 

 

“Maybe I should talk to him,” the Texan murmured to himself. 

 

So lost in thought was he that he didn't realize that the group ahead of him had stopped. He ran headlong into Peter, who in turn ran into Micky, who went face first into the sand. Mike scrambled to help him up. 

 

“Whoops. Sorry, Mick,” he said, smacking him on the back as he coughed up sand. 

 

“No problem,” Micky wheezed. “I love a fresh sandbar.”

 

Keppler took them to stand on the stage. Mike took note of three small stage lights and then strands of lights were wrapped around a wooden frame. It would provide ambient lighting while still spotlighting them.

 

“This is the spot. Are all your instruments going to fit or do we need to make it bigger?”

 

Mike spoke up. “This is perfect, Mr. Keppler. The space we practice in is smaller.”

 

Keppler glanced in his direction. “You must have your elbows and knees in each other's backs sometimes.”

 

“Sometimes fingers and toes,” agreed Micky.

 

Peter added sadly, “I've been hit with a maraca upside the head more than once.”

 

“Yeah, that wasn't for lack of space, mate,” said Davy, who had just joined them in costume. “You zone off from time to time and that's the only thing to do.”

 

Green. His shirt was green. The one color that really brought out his eyes. Mike couldn't help but stare a little. Davy was a beautiful young man and Mike had always thought so. 

 

The Brit chose to stand beside Peter while Keppler repeated to him what he'd said to the others. He glanced Mike's way once but didn't look back again after that. That kind of stung, but maybe Mike deserved it. 

 

Once the briefing was over, the four of them unloaded the car. It never took long when they helped one another, plus they set up together.

 

As Micky was checking the car one last time, leaning over the front seat, two things caught his attention. He found algae and moss on the driver's seat and floorboards for one. For another, the smell was like stagnant, fishy water. He remembered that smell on Mike when he'd first come home. For some reason, his stomach sank.

 

“What did you do, babe?” He asked this aloud though he expected no answer. “What were you thinking?”

 

“I was thinking I had nothing left without…” said Mike behind him, pausing and taking a breath. Micky didn't turn around, his body tensing. “Mick, I'm sorry. I just wanted the pain to end. The moment I saw that… my sense left me…”

 

Micky finally turned and looked up at him. His eyes were infinitely sad and he grabbed his hand. 

 

“Mike… did you do something stupid ..?” he whispered, gripping his fingers tightly.

 

Mike knelt down and took Micky's hand between both of his own. He was quiet for a moment until he had no reason not to answer. 

 

“Yeah, I did. I tried to jump off the rail at that sight-seeing spot… that one that Peter makes us stop at everytime we pass it… including today.”

 

Micky felt horrified as he realized they had been at the spot where Mike could have ended his life. He'd put his hands on that railing not even an hour ago.

 

“What kept you alive?”

 

“The grace of God… and a little hidden pond that was about 50 feet down. I splashed down right into it. It kept me from hurting myself. I think it was God's way. I wasn't meant to die last night. Micky, I'm so sorry…” Mike said softly, looking up into his eyes.

 

Micky said nothing, simply wrapping his arms around Mike and hugging him close. His heart hammered painfully in his chest just thinking about the fact that Mike might not have been here right now. He couldn't bear the idea. 

 

The curly-haired man let out a shuddery breath. Mike squeezed him.

 

“I'm here, Mick. I didn't succeed and I'm not going to try again. I've got you to live for. Last night proved to me that there's something to live for no matter what.”

 

With his face in Mike's neck, Micky uttered, “You do that again and I'll lose my mind. You're my best friend. I love you. Don't you dare leave me.”

 

“I won't, I promise. C'mon, we need to go see Mr. Keppler…” The Texan stood straight, taking Micky with him as he was still holding on. 

 

Neither one of them were aware of the small British man who had seen the embrace and the last of their exchange. Hurt eyes cried silent tears as he turned away.

 

************************

 

When Mike and Micky rejoined the group, they found that all of the equipment was set up. There was a stereo system set up along with recording gear and microphones. Everything looked positively wired for sound. 

 

“Hey, I'm glad you're back, Nesmith. I forgot to talk to you about your compensation for this and I need you to sign the paperwork,” Jack told Mike, taking him aside.

 

“Oh, okay, Mr. Keppler. I forgot about that myself,” the Texan replied, following him. 

 

Jack took a paper from the file folder and a pen. He sat down and motioned for Mike to do the same. The taller man sat across from him. 

 

“So Dino has nothing to do with this. I'm also in charge of the budget so you don't have to worry about being stiffed. How does $500 each sound to you?”

 

Mike stared. That was a lot more than they usually got at normal gigs. And it was a piece, not altogether. 

 

Keppler mistook his silence for unhappiness and said, “Too low? The most I could do is $800 a piece. I think that's more than fair.”

 

“Yes!” Mike exclaimed, his voice a high pitch. He cleared his throat and said more levelly, “Yes, that's fair. I think the boys would agree. $800 a piece is a good deal.”

 

Jack wrote the amount on a blank line in the papers and signed his name. He held the pen out to Mike, who took it and signed as well. 

 

“Now that we're all buttoned up and signed, we can get started. I really appreciate you guys doing this on such short notice.”

 

“We're glad to do it. This is a big opportunity for us. It'd be nice to have food on the table on a regular basis,” Mike replied, feeling that pretty sincerely in his bones. 

 

“I remember being there. Never knowing where your next meal is coming from, if you can afford rent and utilities. Sometimes going without any of it. Those were my salad days. I was struggling until one director gave me a chance. The rest is history. I hope this helps you out,” Keppler told him as they went back to the set.

 

“It will.”

 

Mike took up his place in front of the drums beside Davy. The shorter male looked up at him and Mike felt a weird sensation in his gut. He picked up his guitar to tune it. 

 

“What was that about?” Davy asked quietly. 

 

“Hmm? Oh, Mr. Keppler wanted to talk to me about our pay. We forgot to talk about it yesterday,” Mike replied evenly. “We're each getting $800 for this tonight.”

 

“That's great news. We can pay rent and get food. My money from the driving will cover a lot of it,” Davy said conversationally. “Maybe we can get a few things for.

the pad. Maybe we can go on a nice date…”

 

The last part was said very quietly but Mike felt like Davy had shouted it for the jolt it sent through him. Though he had thought about talking to Davy about everything, a date was not a thought he cared to entertain right now. He wasn't even sure there was a relationship here anymore.

 

“We'll just have to see when all's said and done.” Even to his own ears, he sounded cold.

 

Davy didn't have a chance to reply. Keppler came on set and told everyone to get into place. He told the Monkees to get ready to start playing.

 

“Count five after I say action and then start playing. That way we get the entirety of your songs,” he said as he passed by.

 

Mike quickly turned to the guys. “We're starting with 'Let's Dance On’, then 'She Hangs Out’, 'Papa Gene's Blues’, and finally with ‘I’m A Believer’. It's a good finisher.”

 

Davy looked a little surprised and uncomfortable at the mention of Mike's song. He nodded with the others, however. Mike was the leader, after all.

 

Jack sat down in the director's chair, script in hand. He took in the scene in front of him and nodded to himself. 

 

“Okay, everybody. Let's try to get this in as few takes as possible. Marker. Annnnnnd action!”

 

And so it began, the strangest and fastest six minutes of Mike's life. They had started playing on the count of five and tried not to overpower the mainstream action. While cameras filmed the actors working through the script, other cameras were filming the extras dancing to the music as well as the band. It felt chaotic and unsettling.

 

When Davy began singing his song, it felt like he was trying a little too hard. The emotion felt forced, but it didn't sound bad. Considering it would only be background music, it wasn't bad at all. 

 

Right as they finished that song, Keppler called cut. One of the actresses was having a small wardrobe malfunction that required a trip to the costume tent. It brought production to a halt. 

 

“Everyone mingle. Don't go far though. That was a good take,” Keppler told them, going to check the sound equipment.

 

Mike put down his guitar and stepped off the stage. He needed something to drink and to stretch. It had only been six minutes but he had felt tense beside Davy. Where before there had been ease and he felt comfortable next to him, now it felt foreign and strange. He knew it was mostly because of his own mind, but still. 

 

He went to the catering table and took a glass of tea, sipping at it. It cooled his throat and calmed him some. 

 

As he turned to go back to the stage, he saw a couple of girls talking to Davy. His smile looked genuine but something in his eyes seemed off.

 

“Oh, Davy, your voice is just divine!” exclaimed one of them, a petite blonde with a sizeable bust.

 

“Why, thank you, darling. That's very kind,” he answered, charming as usual but there was a distance in his voice. 

 

“Could you sing for us while we wait? I think everyone would just be over the moon if you did!” said the other girl, a tall black-haired girl that fairly towered over Davy.

 

Davy hesitated. “Well, I don't know… They might be back any moment…”

 

“Please, Davy. It would mean so much if you'd just sing one song for us.” The first girl was trying to get into his personal space.

 

The Englishman started to turn them down and then his eyes caught Mike's. They held each other's gaze for a long moment before Davy let out a breath. 

 

“You know, I would be glad to. I have a song that's been going through my mind all day, one I've been working on. Now's as good a time as any to try it out,” he said, turning to Micky and Peter. “'Love to Love’, fellas.”

 

Mike watched him quizzically as he picked up a microphone and cleared his throat. Though he spoke to the crowd, his eyes were on Mike. 

 

“I've been asked by these two lovely ladies to sing while we wait. This song goes out to someone special who knows who they are.”

 

The music started and Mike had a terribly ominous feeling that started in the pit of her stomach. He was pretty sure he wasn't going to like this.

 

“Love's a thing that needs want to thrive on

Then it grows

At least that's what I've been told

 

You can't love someone if you find that 

All you get in return

Is a heart that's cold…”

 

Mike felt like someone had dumped ice water on him, much like when he'd plunged into that cold pond. Davy was singing to him in front of everyone and this song… he knew it well and he had never been a fan. He certainly wasn't right now. 

 

“They say you need love to love

You gotta have love to love

They all say it works that way

But if it's true

Why do I love you?

Why do I love you?”

 

There was a passion in Davy's voice that had been lacking in the songs they had played just a few minutes ago. He played the tambourine against his hip as he sang and Mike could feel each beat in his soul, that jangle crashing through him. He felt rooted to the spot.

 

“Seems like you keep tryin’ to break me

You do things designed 

Just to make me cry

And I've heard if warm lips don't touch you

Love won't grow

No matter how much you try…”

 

Mike was starting to get a little angry. How dare he stand up there and sing about needing love to love? Wasn't it he who had been caught kissing someone other than Mike? Wasn't it Davy who had made that choice last night? 

 

The Texan made his legs move, slowly at first and then gaining momentum. This was just too much. 

 

“They say you need love to love

You gotta have love to love

They all say it works that way

But if it's true

Why do I love you?

Why do I love you?”

 

Mike got to the stage and ripped the tambourine from Davy's fingers. The crowd fell silent as Micky and Peter stopped playing. All eyes were on the pair. 

 

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Mike hissed out between clenched teeth.

 

Davy's eyes were defiant. “I'm singing, what does it look like? Parasailing?”

 

“Oh ho ho, you think you're so witty. How dare you?”

 

“Uh, guys?” Micky ventured but was ignored. 

 

“What do you mean, how dare I? How dare you?!” Davy's voice went up a couple of octaves. 

 

“Guys!” Micky called a little louder and more pointedly. Yet again, he was ignored.

 

“You get up here and sing this little number like you're the one that was wronged and I'm supposed to just…”

 

“GUYS!” Micky yelled, getting a little annoyed at his friends.

 

“WHAT?!” they both hollered back, looking at Micky at last. 

 

“You're not alone,” the curly-haired man said flatly, pointing to the audience with a drumstick.

 

Both of them froze and Davy looked at the crowd. Everyone was staring, including Jack Keppler, who had just returned from the sound tent. A couple of people whispered to each other and Mike suddenly felt very exposed. He cleared his throat and spoke into the microphone.

 

“Uh, please excuse us. My bandmate and I need to have a private discussion. Carry on.”

 

He grabbed Davy's arm and was grateful that the smaller man didn't really fight him. They both exited the stage and set off for somewhere more private. It ended them up in the director's tent, the only unoccupied tent on the beach. 

 

They just looked at each other for the longest time, neither sure of what to say. Mike was a little embarrassed that he had allowed himself to lose his cool in front of the crowd. It was unprofessional.

 

“So how long have you and Micky been seeing each other behind my and Peter's backs?” Davy demanded, his arms crossed over his chest.

 

The question completely threw Mike for a loop. He stared at Davy in utter confusion. 

 

“What are you talking about? Micky and I aren't seeing each other,” he replied, his hands going to his hips. 

 

“Don't lie to me! Last night, when you were 'sick’, I went back up to see if Micky would hand me my pajamas and I saw the kiss between you. He was all wrapped around you! Don't you try to deny it!”

 

Mike stared at him, his eyes widening as he thought about the events of the night before and remembered the subtle, chaste kiss he had shared with Micky. He had thought he had heard the bedroom door creak open a little but had ignored it initially. Now he knew he hadn't imagined the sound.

 

“There was nothing to that kiss! It's something he and I do sometimes and there's nothing romantic about it!” Mike protested. “He's happy with Peter and I'm no homewrecker! He's like a brother to me.”

 

Davy scoffed. “I know you're Southern but I didn't think you were so backwater that you would think brothers act like that! And then he was all over you earlier, hugging you and telling you he loved you! I saw you two by the car. That was pretty gutsy, I must say. In front of God and everyone. I guess he's worth chancing outing yourself!”

 

The backwater comment had Mike going on the offensive. He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, trying to think of a witty comeback. 

 

“At least I don't go giving myself to whoever bats an eyelash at me and promises me a good time! What'd he offer you, more money if you gave it up to him? A life of luxury if you got him off? What did he promise you that made you kiss him?!”

 

Mike had moved forward, grasping Davy's upper arms. He pulled him in so they were flush against one another, where Davy couldn't move away. The smaller man had paled at the revelation that he had been caught but it reddened as anger took over. 

 

“Michael, you had better watch your words before you say something you regret,” he said edgily, trying to push Mike back away from him. 

 

“I already regret telling you I loved you. Why did I ever think I could trust you to be faithful--?”

 

The slap resounded around the tent as Davy's palm connected with Mike's cheek. The taller man's head snapped sideways and he stumbled back, letting go of Davy. For a little guy, he sure packed a wallop. 

 

There were angry tears in Davy's eyes as he advanced on Mike, a 5’3” tower of rage. He jabbed a finger to the taller man's chest and backed him up against a tent pole.

 

“And how could I ever think you would grow up?! After all this time, you still think so little of me! Well, I have news for you, Michael Nesmith! I am not some cheap floozy and I have NEVER done anything sexual for money! I have NEVER slept with anyone to advance myself! If that was the case, I would never have met you or Micky or Peter! I had a Broadway producer proposition me when I was 16 for the title role in Oliver! I would have killed for that role! Even then, I knew it was cheap to do that and so I didn't! I came here to California to try the music scene and met three fellas who wanted the same thing! I even thought I fell in love with one of them but he doesn't respect me enough! Go to hell, Mike!” Davy pulled the ring off his pinky and chucked it at Mike's head. “And take your worthless piece of tin with you!”

 

Mike held up his hands to protect his face and then stared at Davy's retreating back as the smaller man stormed out of the tent. He found himself very much alone.

 

He looked to the ground and found the ring had rolled under the hem of the tent. He picked it up and held it tight in his palm. 

 

As his words caught up with him, he groaned. He was such an idiot. Saying those horrible things to Davy. He might as well have screamed “whore” at him. 

 

How could he have said those things? How could he have said he regretted telling Davy he loved him? That wasn't true at all. 

 

“Oh God…” he whispered, closing his eyes tight. 

 

This was irreparable. What he had said was unforgivable. Davy had every right to be angry.

 

“That was incredibly well-handled,” came Micky's voice dryly from the tent opening. 

 

Mike looked up to see his friend standing there with his arms crossed, a frown pulling at his lips. He looked highly unamused.

 

“Mick…”

 

“For someone who so loves that man, you have a funny way of showing it. I'd've punched you if you talked to me like that,” Micky said, walking over to him. 

 

Mike hung his head, looking down at his feet. Micky's words made him feel small, like a tiny worm inching through the dirt. He knew he was lower than pond scum right now.

 

“I think he would have if I hadn't been holding his arms. That slap was pretty strong though… I deserved much worse,” Mike replied, pulling the director's chair that sat in the middle of the tent and sitting in it. 

 

“Yeah you did. You need to get your head on straight and listen to what I have to say to you.” Micky sat in the sand in front of him and looked up. “I had a little chat with Mr. Keppler who was worried when you two left. He said he knew something was off earlier when you wouldn't even make eye contact with Davy. He asked if I knew anything. I told him I knew something had happened between Davy and Capparetti last night and you saw it. Apparently your least favorite, ‘B’ movie director is a bit of a lecher and has broken up several relationships, straight and homosexual. One of his victims told Keppler he was blackmailed by Capparetti into sleeping with him as long as Capparetti kept his mouth shut about that particular actor being gay. He broke up a 16 year relationship.”

 

The Texan stared as he absorbed all of this. Could that be what had happened? Could that bastard have threatened Davy, making him think he had no choice but to give in?

 

“Oh man… what if that's what happened with Davy? I called him nothing short of a whore… Oh, I feel sick…” Mike leaned forward, trying to breathe through the wave of nausea and bile that had raised in his throat.

 

Micky sighed. “I told you to talk to him. I would buy Capparetti as a low-down sleazeball before Davy cheating on you any day of the week. Now you've made an ass of yourself.”

 

Mike covered his face. “Davy is never gonna talk to me again…”

 

“Maybe not. But then again, he might if you ask him what happened and let him tell you instead of assuming things. I tried to catch him but he just gave me the angriest look… He did that earlier too…”

 

“He thinks we're having an affair. You and me, behind his and Peter's backs. He saw that kiss last night and earlier at the car. This is such a mess and it's all my fault.”

 

Micky paled and stood up. “I better catch Pete before he goes to talk to Davy. I don't need that rumor getting back to him.” He started to head outside the tent and then pausef. “Davy went towards the boardwalk. If you wanted to talk to him.”

 

With that, he left Mike on his own again, heading out to try and find his boyfriend. This was too much crazy even for him. 

 

Mike sat still, looking down at the ring in his hands. When he had given it to Davy, it had been with all the love and hope and adoration in his heart. He had slid it onto Davy's pinky, kissed that hand and promised him to be the best boyfriend he could ever hope for. He had promised to listen to and respect him, never taking him for granted. 

 

“You really screwed up, Nesmith. You couldn't even keep those promises…” he told himself solemnly. 

 

Micky was right, though. He should find Davy and let him explain. Maybe they could at least come out of this as friends even if the relationship wasn't salvageable. He hoped it wasn't that far gone but he also realized he had done a lot of damage with his thoughtless words. 

 

He exited the tent and looked out towards the boardwalk. Even in the darkness, he could make out the petit figure of Davy pacing back and forth. He was almost sure the Englishman was still chewing him out even though he wasn't there. He had a tendency of talking to himself when irritated. 

 

The Texan began his trek through the sand towards the other man. He slid the ring into his pocket as he walked, holding it for strength out of sight. He softly praye,d under his breath. 

 

“I know you kept me alive last night for a reason. Please help me through this. I don't talk to you enough but I'm begging you to help me mend this. I love him and I need him more than anythung. Thank you…” he trailed off as he got close enough to hear Davy, who was now facing the ocean and muttering to himself. 

 

“... stupid men. Why bother with them? Girls aren't this complicated. You do everything to make a man happy and all he does is slap you in the face…”

 

Mike cleared his throat. “I believe it was you who slapped me.”

 

The smaller man tensed up and reached out to clutch the wooden post beside him. When he spoke, his voice was tight and hard. 

 

“What do you want? Come to call me more names? Accuse me of sleeping with the entire film crew?”

 

The taller man cringed a little but took it. He knew he had seriously hurt his lover. He deserved the anger. 

 

“No, I came here to talk to you like a human being, with respect. To listen to you instead of making assumptions. I was wrong.”

 

Davy didn't turn around, just kept staring out at the water. He didn't speak at first and Mike wondered if he was being given the silent treatment. But he waited until Davy finally spoke up. 

 

“Give me one good reason that I should even give you my time.”

 

Mike got down on his knees and walked to Davy that way. He took the hand that wasn't holding the post and kissed the knuckles gently. 

 

“Because I come to you, contrite and apologetic, ready to listen. There's no excuse for how I acted before. That was not the love and respect I promised you. I'm sorry, Davy.”

 

The Englishman let out a long breath and turned his head to look at Mike. His eyes were puffy and red, telling Mike that he had been crying. The Texan mentally kicked himself for making him cry. He moved up and wrapped his arms around Davy's waist, resting his head against Davy's abdomen. 

 

After a long moment, Davy's hand dropped into Mike's hair, stroking the charcoal waves. Mike could still feel tenseness in Davy's body but it had relaxed some. 

 

“I can't keep forgiving you for calling me a whore, Mike… When we got together, I looked past it because I realized that's exactly what it looked like then. But I have done nothing lately to make you not trust me. Last night was… it wasn't what it looked like.” Davy sounded so tired and sad. 

 

Mike relinquished his hold just long enough to sit down and pull Davy down beside him. He wrapped his arm around the smaller man's shoulders and kissed his temple. 

 

“Tell me what happened, honey child. I want to know if I need to rearrange Capparetti's face.”

 

A very small smile graced Davy's lips. “I already rearranged his bollocks. I'm sure that's why he couldn't make it today.”

 

Mike looked down at him and could see wicked amusement in his lover's eyes. Now he really wanted to know what had happened. 

 

“What did he do to deserve that?” As if Mike didn't have a good idea of just what he did. 

 

Davy was quiet and Mike waited patiently. When the smaller man spoke, his voice trembled and held so much contempt for Dino Capparetti.

 

“I went to talk to him about the scenes for today. He beckoned me in and made the couple of people who were in there leave. It was just us. He put his hands on me and told me I was beautiful, that he'd wanted me since he'd first met me. He had me backed into the tent pole. I told him I was in a relationship and happy and he said he knew I was with you.”

 

Mike blinked. “How did he know that? We weren't obvious or anything…”

 

Davy gave him a side look. “He said he could tell from your face when he would touch me. You got angry and he said he could see the possessiveness in your eyes. He told me if I didn't let him have me, he would tell the world we were a couple of queers and end any chance we had of being famous.”

 

The Texan looked down at Davy and found that the Englishman wouldn't look at him. He let out a breath and pulled him closer. 

 

“Davy… your virtue is worth more than some scumball taking advantage of you.” He kissed Davy's forehead gently. 

 

“I was thinking about you.. You're on your way to being a successful songwriter. I didn't want this to get in the way of your chances. I don't really worry about me. So I agreed… but I couldn't let him get past kissing me.”

 

Davy laid his head on Mike's shoulder. He was trembling and his eyes were closed. He felt so ashamed admitting he had nearly slept with the bastard, no matter how noble his intentions had been.

 

“He tried to undress me. I couldn't do it. All I could see was you. All I could think was I couldn't let him take me, I didn't want any other man to touch me. So I smashed my knee into his balls.”

 

Mike chuckled darkly. “That's going to be the least of his troubles when I get my hands on him. I'm gonna kill him.”

 

Rage wasn't quite the word for what Mike was feeling. He was fighting to keep himself in check because all he wanted to do was hunt down Dino Capparetti and castrate him. He wanted to make sure the jackass couldn't ruin any more relationships. 

 

Davy pulled away just enough so he could look into Mike's face. He could see that the Texan believed him, could see the glint of protectiveness in those eyes. Mike's hand was resting on Davy's hip, keeping him from going too far. Despite the hurtful words from before and their fight, he felt the ache in his heart lessen as he saw the man he loved, the man who trusted and respected him, looking back into his eyes. 

 

He let out a breath and rested back against Mike's shoulder. “I imagine that I won't get paid for my driving once he recovers. I wouldn't let him have his way with me.”

 

Mike leaned their heads together. “Oh I think you will. Jack Keppler is in charge of the budget and I get the feeling he isn't that fond of Capparetti himself. Even if you don't, though, it's okay. I'd rather be broke with your virtue intact than rich with him taking advantage of you. Money isn't everything.”

 

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Davy had wanted to stay angry at Mike but found that he wanted to be held even more than that. He could feel how much Mike loved him and how sorry he was. He knew that the Texan felt badly and that he was here for him. How could you stay angry at the other half of your soul?

 

“So you and Micky… really aren't having an affair?” Davy asked quietly, feeling foolish for thinking it. They had known each other for years, if they had wanted to be together, it would have happened already. 

 

Mike shook his head. “We're not having an affair. Micky is completely wrapped around Peter's little finger and I love you too much to even think about anyone else. I told you once that I didn't fall in love easily and I meant that. My love for you was a slow process. I had to trust you as a friend before my heart would entertain anything else.”

 

“But you told Micky last night you wished you and he had been together. Then he kissed you.”

 

Mike looked at him, an eyebrow raised. “Just how long were you standing there?”

 

Davy shrugged. “I heard that first and then I opened the door a crack. I saw the kiss and then I went downstairs.”

 

The taller man rubbed his eyebrows as he thought about it. Why did it always seem they were catching the incriminating bits of conversation and situations? A real comedy of errors this was. 

 

“That's not the first time I've said that to him in the last few years. Doesn't mean it's true or that it'll ever happen. I tend to say that to him when I'm heartbroken and feeling sorry for myself.”

 

Davy looked up. He could see something in Mike's eyes that made him ask his next question. 

 

“Were you two ever an item? You're very close.”

 

Mike breathed out. “We almost were. I was 18, he was 16. He had come to visit like he usually did in the early part of the summer. We had been writing back and forth about how it felt nice to be around each other. Micky said he thought it might be love, though he wasn't sure. I understood how he felt, I was a little obsessed with the thought of being with him. I had just bought my first car right before he came to visit and I was excited to take him around in it. One night we drove out to this little lake about 10 miles from my Grandma's place. I had all intentions of starting a relationship with him.”

 

He looked far away as he thought about that night. He still remembered it so well, he remembered how nervous he had been, how Micky had pressed against his side as he drove. He had held Micky's hand once they had gotten far enough away from other people. It had felt so nice to be close to the other boy and he was so sure that it was love. 

 

“Did you… y'know… get physical with each other?” Davy queried, not entirely sure why that thought made him jealous. It had been a long time ago. 

 

“No. We didn't make it past kissing. We started to neck and it felt… off. We tried making out but I felt like I was kissing a member of my family and he said he felt the same way. Our love affair ended before it began. I know he and I are not made for each other like that,” Mike responded, kissing Davy's hair. “When I'm heartbroken, I'll tell him that I wish we had been together because I know he doesn't take me seriously. I know he's not in love with me.”

 

The Englishman nodded slowly. “Oddly, that makes sense. You can't get his hopes up.”

 

“Exactly. Yeah, he kissed me but it wasn't a serious kiss. After our failed attempt at a relationship, we've just been really open with each other. I guess when you've been where we have, social norms kind of take a hike. I really do think of him as a brother, we're just… unusual.”

 

Davy chuckled softly and Mike could hear the relief in it. The Englishman looked up at the sky. 

 

“Yeah, you are a bit. I'm glad to hear that because I wasn't looking forward to breaking it to Peter. He's so crazy about Micky. Those two were made for each other.”

 

Mike reached out and cupped Davy's cheek, turning his face so they were looking at each other. He kissed Davy's forehead, cheeks, and his lips. The smaller man kissed him back after a second or two, slowly and softly like it was the first time. (So maybe more like the 3rd time; their first and second kisses had been fierce and rough). 

 

When they parted, Mike murmured, “I think we're made for each other too.”

 

Davy huffed and pushed back. He regarded his lover very seriously. “You're not off the hook yet. You hurt me pretty bad. I'm willing to give you another chance but if you ever accuse me of cheating again, that's it. That's all she wrote. I will walk out and I won't come back. I don't have to put up with that. Do you understand?”

 

Mike nodded and kissed Davy's fingers. “I understand. You're right, you don't have to put up with it. We're supposed to be partners and I screwed up and forgot it. In the same respect though… you should have told me what Capparetti was trying to do. I know your intentions were good, but we need to talk to each other. I don't ever want you to think that giving up your virtue is a good trade for my possible career that may or may not happen. You're part of my future, at least that's what I want. We both have to learn how to communicate.”

 

The Brit looked a little sheepish as he agreed. “I should have and I'm sorry for that. I just panicked. But that won't ever happen again.”

 

“Good. I may have to fight off a few people who try to come after you but at least if I know beforehand, I can stop them before they do something to you…” Mike paused and reached out, caressing his cheek. “I love you…”

 

“I love you too… No one can take me from you,” Davy replied, leaning in to the touch. 

 

Mike moved back in and kissed his beloved, his lips pressed firmly to Davy's. The smaller man opened his lips to the Texan and moaned softly when Mike took the offering and possessed that sweet mouth with all the love and ardor he could muster. 

 

A throat clearing behind them had them springing apart. Jack Keppler stood there, an amused smile on his face. He crossed his arms. 

 

“I'm glad to see that you two made up. Mr. Dolenz said you had a pretty big fight. We were in the middle of shooting a movie though. Remember?”

 

Mike stood up and pulled Davy to his feet. He gave the other man an apologetic look. 

 

“Yeah, sorry about that, sir. We can finish the scene now. We just had to talk first,” Mike told him, clasping his hands behind his back.

 

“I understand that. I'm not mad, but we do need to finish this bit. You ready to head back?” Jack asked kindly. 

 

“Yeah, we're right behind you.”

 

Keppler started back with Mike and Davy behind him. They trekked through the sand, back towards the lights. Davy stepped up next to the other man. 

 

“You have no problem with us? It doesn't bother you that we're in a relationship?” he asked him quietly. Mike quickened his pace so he could hear the conversation. 

 

Jack's answer was patient and just as quiet. “I would be a little bit of a hypocrite if I had a problem with you. I'm gay myself. I had a feeling in the beginning that there was something between you and I thought you were sweet together. I really am glad that you are okay now. And your secret is safe with me. It's no one's business who y'all sleep with.”

 

That admission surprised Mike some and yet it was a big relief. He knew he had felt a camaraderie with this man and now he understood why. They were birds of a feather. It made him feel better to know that they were in the same boat.

 

Davy glanced his way and they shared a look of ease. Davy looked back to Jack and smiled softly. 

 

“Thank you. That means a lot. Your secret is safe with us too.”

 

“Thanks. We'll take care of each other. I'll talk to you guys more later about everything.” They came to the edge of the filming set. “Go join your friends and we'll get this going.”

 

Davy and Mike headed back to where Micky and Peter were waiting on the stage. The curly-haired Monkee gave them a concerned look. 

 

“Are you guys okay?” he asked. “Are there going to be any more explosions?”

 

Peter shot him a confused glance. “Explosions? I thought they were arguing with each other…”

 

Davy looked at Mike. “Isn't that dumb?”

 

Mike's eyebrows went up and then he shook his head, addressing Micky. “We're okay. No more arguing. We got it worked out.”

 

“Okay, places everyone! We're gonna start from the top. Monkees, start over on your songs. We're gonna get this all in one take! I have faith in everyone here!” Jack called from the director chair. “Marker! And action!”

 

They began playing again at the count of five. This time Davy sounded light-hearted and happy when he sang his song and Mike felt at ease. His playing was more natural and it felt right to be standing by Davy again. He was enjoying himself as they played. 

 

It came to Mike's song and he began the intro. It sounded a little bluegrass but it was usually a favorite at gigs. Mike had written it not long after he and Davy had gotten together and he felt as strongly about his little Englishman now as he did then. 

 

“No heartaches felt

No longer lonely

Nights of waiting finally won me happiness

That's all rolled up in you

 

And now with you as inspiration

I look toward a destination

Sunny bright that once before was blue

 

I have no more

Than I did before 

But now I've got all that I need

For I love you and I know you love me…”

 

Davy glanced his way and smiled as their eyes met. He moved a little closer as he played the maracas. He could almost feel the warmth of the other man's body. 

 

Mike felt his heart speed up at that smile. It made him wish they were alone so he could apologize properly to Davy and show him how much he loved him. There would be time for that later and he would make it all up to his lover. 

 

“So take my hand

I'll start my journey

Free from all the helpless worry

That besets a man when he's alone

 

For strength is mine

When we're together

And with you I know I'll never

Have to pass the high road for the low

 

I have no more than I did before

But now I've got all that I need

For I love you and I know you love me…

 

Play, magic fingers!”

 

The extras were grooving along to the music and it all felt like a normal gig. Davy was moving to the music and Micky and Peter were playing along happily. It was simple to forget this was a movie scene. 

 

“I have no more than I did before

But now I've got all that I need

For I love you and I know you love me

 

Yes I love you and I know you love me!”

 

The song ended and there was a light smattering of applause from the extras. It was definitely a feel good song. The boys bowed and set up for their last song. 

 

They played “I'm a Believer” and the timing was perfect. They finished just as the scene ended and Jack called cut. 

 

“That's a wrap! Wonderful job, folks! We got it all in one take! That's it for tonight.” He pointed to th Monkees. “Come see me in the sound tent, guys.”

 

The Monkees traipsed through the sand to the tent, all feeling pretty buoyant about the performance. The second take had sounded so much better than the first one. The extras had really seemed into the music. 

 

“Well, boys, I'm impressed,” Jack said as they came in. “You played so well. One of the girls in the crowd said she wouldn't mind hiring you for he birthday party next month. Even with the hiccup, you all did just swell.”

 

Mike spoke for the group as he took his hat off humbly. “Thank you, sir. I apologize again for that hiccup. But I think it worked out okay. That second take was really good.”

 

Keppler nodded and sat down in his chair at his table. “I agree. You boys photograph good and we got some great shots while you played. The reason I wanted to talk to you is that I had a touch of inspiration during filming and need your permission.”

 

Davy spoke up. “For what, Mr. Keppler?”

 

“Well, the production company has never been wild about the title that Dino chose but anyone who knows the man knows he's kind of sexist. He chose 'Beach Bimbos’ because he doesn't like women. Personally I like 'She Hangs Out’ as a title, with your song as the title song. I'm almost certain I can get my bosses to approve it but I need your permission. I can write up a contract with the legal team that I think everyone would be happy with and you would be paid for use of the song and royalties for each time the movie is played. It'll be like Elvis. He gets paid everytime they show his movies. Whaddya say?”

 

Mike replied, “Give us a minute to confer.”

 

The four of them huddled together in a circle. Jack waited patiently, his hands clasped in front of him.

 

“What do you guys think?” Mike asked, keeping his voice low. 

 

“I think it's Davy's song. He wrote it. So it should be up to him,” Peter replied, his voice indicating he thought that was the only logical answer. 

 

Davy interjected. “Yeah but we all sing and play it so it belongs to all of us.”

 

Micky spoke up, looking across at Davy. “Pete’s right. The song is yours. I don’t think any of us really mind if you agree, but it’s your baby. This is a big opportunity for you, so don’t look to us for validation.”

 

Davy was silent for a moment as he thought about it. He could tell that the others weren’t going to make this decision for him. He was a little hesitant about putting more of himself into this movie but this wasn’t Dino Capparetti he was dealing with. Jack Keppler seemed like a good man and he felt that he could trust him to keep his word..

 

“Right. Well, I think I know my answer then.” He turned back to Keppler and smiled gently. “Alright. You have a deal. I’m willing to let you use my song for the title. If it was anyone but you asking me, the answer would be no.”

 

The older man beamed at him and stood, shaking his hand. He was ecstatic about Davy’s answer and was eager to assuage any negative feelings the smaller man might have. 

 

“You won’t regret this, I promise. I’ll get on the phone with my bosses tonight and see what they have to say, but I’m sure they’ll be just as happy about this as I am. Now, let me pay you boys for tonight and you can head home.”

 

They were each paid their $800 in cash. It was more money collectively than they had ever had. It could pay the rent for months, get them some food, pay the utilities. It was overwhelming to the group of musicians. 

 

Keppler asked Micky and Peter to step out for a moment so that he could talk to Mike and Davy. The two other Monkees headed out to start packing up their instruments, not at all nonplussed to being dismissed. It was something they were used to. 

 

“Have a seat, fellas. I figure we should have a talk before you leave,” Jack told Mike and Davy, pointing to the chairs in front of him.

 

Mike pulled Davy’s chair out for him and then sat beside him. He knew he had some bad blood to make up for, so he was going to start now. It never hurt to be a gentleman.

 

“I imagine that Capparetti is going to start a fuss when he comes back,” Davy said softly. He looked down at his hands. “I didn’t let him have his way so I’m sure that he’s going to tell me to hit the road.”

 

Jack gave him a sympathetic look and said, “Most likely, which is why I’m going to arrange for you to be paid for your time in the morning. You’ll get what was promised to you, but first… I need to know exactly what happened. I know that it must be hard to think about, but I need it so I can present it to my bosses. I won’t give them your name, but I need to present more evidence to them of his behaviour. We’ve been trying to boot him off this production for weeks.”

 

So Davy told him everything. It was worse, admitting it to someone who was almost a stranger. It was harder than admitting it to Mike. The Texan reached out and took his lover’s hand gently, giving him strength as much as he could. He rubbed Davy’s palm with his thumb as he listened to the whole thing again, his temper surging at the impropriety of it all, that the asshole had nearly caused them to break up. He just wanted to hold his lover again and tell him it was okay. 

 

Jack listened to it calmly, taking down notes. His lips had pursed into a very thin line and Mike could see that he had tensed some but kept his cool for the most part. When Davy had finished, the older man regarded him with eyes that understood far too well. 

 

“I think I can honestly say I’m proud of you for kneeing him. I wish I had had that kind of presence of mind. Malcolm and I might still be together if I had.”

 

Mike’s eyebrows lifted yet again for the second time in less than a half hour. Jack saw the look on his face and let out a harsh breath. 

 

“Three years ago, I was assigned to a movie that Capparetti was directing. He seemed nice at first, charming. I had been in a relationship with my boyfriend for 16 years. He was assistant director for that movie, so we were working together. That’s actually how I got the job, Mal had recommended me to the bigwigs for music and sound. I guess we weren’t as discreet as we thought we were and Capparetti cornered me one night. He told me he knew I was gay and seeing the assistant director. He told me he’d tell everyone in the industry about us unless I slept with him. I was a fool and did it. He told Mal that I had been unfaithful and I never got a chance to explain what had happened. Mal quit the picture and left without so much as a ‘screw you’. I haven’t seen him since,” Jack told them solemnly. 

 

“Why did you agree to do this picture with Capparetti? I would think he’d be the last one you’d want to work with,” Davy said. 

 

At this, Jack smiled cattily. “The production group has gotten several complaints from actors and crew who have worked with him. They wanted me to get any evidence I could get. The chance to take Dino Capparetti down was just too appealing to me. I’m just sorry you boys got involved and ended up in the same boat as I did. This though,” he held up his notepad. “This will end his career. He won’t be in that position of power again. And don’t you worry, I will make sure you don’t suffer at all for any of this. When I’m done, you will get what is owed to you and a sense of vindication. Thank you for telling me this, Mr. Jones.”

 

Mike glanced at Davy and was glad to see that he looked a little more relaxed now. Perhaps finding someone who understood what had happened made the difference. He knew it wasn’t just him. 

 

Davy sat forward and said, “Take him down, Mr. Keppler. Please don’t let him ruin any more relationships.”

 

Jack shook both their hands. “I will do my damndest. Be here by noon tomorrow. I should have everything wrapped up by then and maybe you can witness me throw him out on his ear.”

 

Mike and Davy headed out of the tent and back towards where Micky and Peter had gotten almost all the equipment packed up. The four finished up together and then decided to head home.

 

The tall Texan climbed into the driver’s side and Davy wasted no time in climbing in beside him. Micky joined Peter in the backseat and smiled to himself as he saw how close Davy was seated beside Mike. It made his heart happy to see that things appeared to be back to normal. 

 

Peter whispered to Micky as the car pulled onto the road off the sand, “Are they okay now or is this justs for show? I can’t handle angry Mike again.”

 

Micky watched the two in the front seat. As they got further away from people, he watched Davy lean his head on Mike’s shoulder and the taller man wrap his free arm around the Brit. Micky felt pretty sure of his response. 

 

“I think everything is as it should be, sweetheart. Come here and kiss me.”

 

Peter happily moved closer as their lips met and Mickey pulled the blond into his lap. He clasped their hands together and held him tight. 

 

Mike glanced in the rearview mirror and smiled to himself. His world was finally starting to right itself. He looked down at his little lover under his arm and was pleased to see him looking back. 

 

“I love you, honey child. I’m proud of you for telling Jack everything,” he said, kissing Davy’s temple. 

 

Davy kissed his cheek and cuddled up against him. “I don’t know if I could have done it without you there. I’m just so humiliated that I let him almost…”

 

Mike cut him off gently. “But you didn’t. You took charge and you showed him who was boss and I’m incredibly proud of you. You showed a lot of courage where many men would not be able to. I shouldn’t have left you last night… How did you get home?”

 

“This girl was headed back this way from the beach and she gave me a ride home. Which reminds me, she gave me her number. I think I should give her some money for petrol or something. I know it was on her way home, but I would feel better,” Davy replied.

 

“I agree. We’ll give her a ring tomorrow and meet her with some money. I’m glad you got a ride. I’m sorry, babe.”

 

Davy looked straight ahead for a moment, lost in thought. He now understood why Mike had left, but it had been quite a while before he had made it home and the engine had still been fairly warm on the Monkeemobile. He’d felt it as he’d passed it. It should have been cooler than that. 

 

“Did you go straight home yourself?” Davy asked softly. 

 

Mike was quiet himself as he flailed mentally for an answer. He wasn’t really sure he was prepared to tell Davy that he had tried to jump to his death. He really felt it would complicate the situation and just upset the Englishman. 

 

“I drove around for a bit before I went home. I was trying to clear my head. It was a good hour before I made it back. Micky met me in the living room, I showered, and then I laid down. I kind of felt like I was in a fog so I don’t remember everything. I just knew I felt like my world had gone out from under me. All I wanted was to go to bed and just… forget for a while. I feel like an idiot,” he answered finally, choosing his words carefully. 

 

“You’re not an idiot for that. I can’t imagine what that had to have looked like. But I wish you would have talked to me instead of just… shutting me out.” The Englishman wrapped one arm around Mike’s waist, resting his head on his chest. 

 

“That won’t ever happen again. I learned my lesson. I need to learn to communicate with you better. That’s the key to a successful relationship, I do believe my mother told me. Not that she’s the poster child for healthy relationships, but it’s still good advice.”

 

Davy chuckled and kissed Mike gently. The older man pulled him in closer, though if he got too much closer, he would be in his lap and they might get pulled over for that. When Mike broke the kiss, Davy patted his shoulder. 

 

“Eyes on the road, Nesmith. Don’t need a ticket now.”

 

Mike snorted and saluted as he put his full attention on driving them home. “Aye aye, Captain Jones!”

 

The laughter of four young men echoed through the night air as the red GTO sped down the highway.

 

************************

 

When they got home, Micky and Peter decided to go out to dinner. They invited the other two to go with them but they declined. 

 

“We need some time alone and so do you guys. Go, have fun,” Mike told them with Davy nodding in agreement beside him. 

 

“Okay. Can I take the car? There's this new place uptown…” Micky asked, rocking up on the balls of his feet. 

 

The Texan threw him the keys. “Just be careful. It's our only mode of transportation.”

 

It wasn't long before Micky and Peter had changed and headed out. They promised not to be home too early to give them some time. 

 

As Mike and Davy found themselves alone, the Englishman became a little shy. He looked up at Mike as the taller man stepped up to him, reaching out and cupping Davy's face gently. Mike bent his head, bringing their foreheads together.

 

Davy's hands came up to rest on Mike's hips, pulling him in. Their lips met tentatively, a sweet press that deepened slowly as Mike explored that mouth with a newfound appreciation. 

 

When they parted, they didn't go far from one another. Mike kissed down below the Brit's ear, then lower to his neck. He pressed several small butterfly kisses to his throat, bringing one hand around to cup the back of Davy's neck. He thrilled at the moan he felt through his lover's skin and he bit down. 

 

The soft cry that escaped Davy was a half-gasp, half-yelp, all bliss. He always loved being bitten and marked. He said Mike's teeth were just sharp enough to be pleasurable with some pain. Davy loved it. 

 

He tangled his fingers in the Texan's hair, drawing his head down. Mike took that invitation and kissed, bit, and sucked at Davy's throat, a passionate assault of delicate flesh. Davy felt his knees weaken and Mike wrapped an arm around the smaller man's waist, keeping him upright. 

 

“Mike… ah! Darling…” Davy gasped out, turning his head and pressing a hot kiss to his temple. 

 

Mike pulled back and licked his lips. This took Davy's breath away, it looked so feral and hungry. It was like the first time they had been intimate, that raw want. 

 

“What do you want, angel? I'm yours to command…” Mike growled out, deep and husky. “Tonight is for you.”

 

Warmth bloomed in Davy's chest. He reached out and caressed Mike's cheek. He swallowed and spoke softly. 

 

“Make love to me… Take me upstairs and make love to me…” 

 

Mike's eyes glowed as they lit up. He gently pressed Davy to sit on the edge of the couch and then he fell to his knees. He ran a hand up Davy's leg, caressing the clothed limb. His hand traveled down to Davy's foot and he began to untie the smaller man's shoe. 

 

He pulled the footwear and sock off, baring the slender foot. He leaned down and kissed the side of it gently, holding it at the ankle. 

 

Davy blushed hotly, the sight of Mike kissing his foot an unusually erotic vista. Those oh-so-capable lips traced along a vein to the top of the appendage and pressed reverent kisses there like a servant to his master. 

 

Davy was simultaneously touched by the action and turned on beyond reason.

 

Mike repeated the worship on the other foot as soon as it was bare. Davy's hand reached out and combed through the Texan's thick hair. As much as he loved this, his body was aching for more. 

 

“Love… I need you. Please…” he murmured, his hand coming to Mike's chin and tilting his face up so they were looking into one another's eyes. 

 

Mike could see the arousal in those beautiful eyes. He could see the want and the need there. He would give him anything he desired. 

 

He rose slowly, brushing a kiss to those sweet, full lips before he picked Davy up in his arms like a bride. Davy held him around the neck as he was carried carefully up the spiral staircase to their bedroom. They traded kisses the entire way, until the Brit felt dizzy with the way his heart pounded.

 

Mike laid him gently on the bed, treating him as if he was the most precious thing in the world, which he was to Mike. He pulled away and Davy made a discontented sound. Mike spoke soothingly. 

 

“It's all right, angel. Keep your eyes on me, you're going to enjoy this, I promise.”

 

He began to unbutton his shirt, moving his fingers at a measured, leisurely pace. Davy's eyes watched in keen interest as Mike's chest was exposed, the light sprinkling of hair a familiar, anticipated sight. The shirt was pulled free of his trousers and discarded on the floor. 

 

Davy had risen onto his knees, crawling forward on the bed like a tiger, ready to pounce. He reached out and slid his fingers into the waistband of Mike's trousers and pulled him closer. Mike went to him easily, knowing that Davy preferred to be in on the action, not just a spectator.

 

The Englishman kissed Mike's chest, trailing his mouth from one nipple to the other, worshipping them both with teeth and tongue. He felt Mike's hand in his hair and heard the acceleration of his breath and the rhythm of his heart pick up. He smiled against Mike's skin and let his hands unbutton the fly of Mike's slacks. 

 

Once it was undone, he pushed them down the Texan's hips, along with his briefs. Mike dutifully stepped out of them and stood naked in front of his boyfriend.

 

Davy ran his hands along the taller man's thighs, pulling him in. He pressed a kiss to Mike's pelvis, just beside the base of his cock. Mike let out a soft sound that Davy knew meant he was liking it. The Brit cupped the Texan's arse in his hands, kneading the muscles as he did. 

 

“You're right, I did enjoy that… But I want more. I want you.” Davy ghosted his lips along the length. His fingers followed the trail and he sensed Mike shiver. 

 

“Stand up, honey child. Let me undress you,” Mike told him in a thick voice.

 

Davy obeyed the command, getting to his feet. Eager fingers worked the buttons of his shirt apart and played over newly bared skin as they pushed the shirt down Davy's shoulders. His trousers soon followed suit and they wasted no time in pressing their bodies together, skin on skin. 

 

Mike slowly picked Davy up until the smaller man had his legs wrapped around Mike's waist. They kissed deeply, lazily as they explored one another. Mike sat down on the bed, reaching between them after a time to wrap his hand around his lover's cock. 

 

A deep moan pulled itself from within Davy's chest, his head falling back as Mike worked him with a slender, talented fist. He pulled slowly from the base to the head and then he would repeat the action faster for a moment before slowing again. It drove Davy mad and had him a quivering mess in a very short time.

 

“Mike… Mike please… no more teasing…!” Davy gasped out plaintively, his body shaking. 

 

Mike picked him up and turned them so that Davy was under him. He kissed Davy's throat and agreed.

 

“No more teasing.”

 

Their lovemaking was unbridled, untamed. They rose and fell together like the crashing waves of the ocean. Mike plunged again and again into Davy's tight body, the slighter man pushing to meet him. 

 

The sounds that filled the room were a heady mixture of moans and cries from Davy and the possessive growl that Mike always made when they made love. It was their own sweet symphony.

 

At one point, Mike pulled Davy up to his knees and he clung to the bedpost as Mike thrusted into him with deep, powerful strokes. Davy cried out as he hit that place that had him seeing stars. As Mike's mouth descended onto his shoulder, Davy reached back, his fingers going to the Texan's hair. Mike's grip on his hips tightened and the rhythm became erratic. 

 

The Englishman kissed Mike deeply as they continued moving. He moved up so that he was pressed against the Texan, back to front. Mike wrapped one arm around Davy’s shoulders, keeping him firmly in place. They rocked together, lost in the feeling of being joined. 

 

Davy knew it was almost over when Mike moved them closer to the bedpost and growled out for him to hold on tight. He gripped the metal with as much strength as he had as Mike bore down, his thrusts becoming deeper and more measured. He was trying to keep control while driving them both to the end. It was always his policy to make sure his lover came first. He had once told Davy that the feeling of the Brit falling over that edge was what pushed him, to know he had done that to the smaller man. 

 

He struck that place again, several times in succession and Davy felt his own body tense as that blissful warmth of orgasm hit him. He cried out, Mike’s name a chant on his lips as he rode the wave of pleasure. Mike continued to push into him and it was an overload of feeling. 

 

The taller man pulled back, still holding onto Davy’s hips, pulling him from the bed post so that he was resting on the mattress on his knees and forearms. Then Mike began a brutal pace that rocketed that orgasm to the point where Davy couldn’t even think for the sheer bliss he was experiencing. 

 

Mike never did this. Usually he was riding the tails of his lover’s orgasm with his own, but he showed no signs of letting up as he pounded mercilessly into the smaller man. Davy found it to be exhilarating, a whole new level to the intimacy they already enjoyed together.

 

The taller man blanketed himself over Davy’s back and kissed his neck heavily as he moved. He reached out and took Davy’s hand, lacing their fingers together. He growled appreciatively as Davy spread his thighs a little more and welcomed him in as deeply as he could go.

 

“Come on, love… Come for me, darling… I want to feel it,” the Brit murmured breathlessly, his knees threatening to give way. 

 

Several powerful thrusts later and Mike was coming, spilling deep in his love’s body. He held Davy around the waist with his free arm, his own body going very, very still as it tensed. He bit down on Davy’s shoulder, groaning loudly against his skin. 

 

They were coupled so tightly to one another that Davy felt Mike’s orgasm like his own. He gasped and buried his face in the pillow his arms were resting on. His body felt over sensitive and well used. He could feel Mike dropping soft kisses over his shoulders and smiled gently to himself. He knew he was loved and adored by this man.

 

Mike carefully slipped from Davy, pulling them both onto their sides, allowing the smaller male to stretch out his legs. He smiled when Davy rolled over and wrapped an arm around him, pressing kisses to his collar bone and the hollow of his throat. He pressed his own lips to Davy’s forehead. 

 

“I love you with everything I am, David Jones,” Mike whispered to him, kissing his eyelids. 

 

Davy looked up at him and the Texan was pleased to see happiness in those eyes. His hip was stroked gently and his chin kissed. 

 

“I love you so much, Michael Nesmith. Nothing could ever take me from you… save your own mouth.” There was humor in his voice and Mike gave him a sheepish look. “No woman or man could ever make me want to leave this. I have a good life with you, a fantastic sex life, and I know you only have eyes for me. I have everything I could want right here at your side.”

 

The Texan kissed him, softly and full of pure love. There was nothing dirty or rough about this kiss, just a loving press of their mouths. Davy let his eyes flutter shut as he enjoyed it, having missed this man over the last three days. The day before yesterday, he had been too tired to do anything but come home and pass out. Last night, everything had happened and had put a rift between them. Today, the rift had gotten bigger until it had all come out. 

 

He had been ready to throw in the towel when Mike had moved away from him earlier. All he had wanted was a touch, something to remind him that he was loved, that things were okay. But now he knew things had been far from okay. For them to have made it back to this was a sign that they were strong together. 

 

Mike murmured, “I want to give you something…”

 

He got up and went to where his clothes were discarded on the floor. He searched through until he found what he was looking for and then returned to bed. Davy gave him a questioning look. 

 

“Close your eyes and hold out your hand.”

 

When Davy did as he was told, Mike slipped the ring back onto his pinky, where it belonged. Davy’s eyes snapped open and he looked down at it. His eyes teared up and he held his hand over his heart. 

 

“Thank you… I felt so bad when I threw it at you… I missed it immediately. It’s all I have to show the world I’m yours. I’m sorry I called it worthless…”

 

Mike kissed Davy’s fingers gently. “At that moment, it was. I made a lot of promises with this ring that I didn’t keep, so it was worthless. I’m going to make you some new promises that I fully intend on keeping.”

 

Mike sat up and pulled Davy into his lap, tucking the smaller man’s head under his chin. Davy’s ear was over Mike’s heart and he could hear the steady rhythm, a soothing beat that calmed him. 

 

“I’m listening…”

 

Mike gathered his thoughts and made sure he knew exactly what he wanted to say. He wanted Davy to understand just how serious he was. 

 

“I promise you to never assume anything. I promise to talk to you if something is bothering me. I will NEVER ever accuse you of being unfaithful again, I won’t ever call you a whore again. I will trust you and work on my own insecurities so that I don’t ever make an ass out of myself again. I won’t take you for granted. I will respect you and love you the way you deserve. You are a good person and capable of deep love and I have to remember that love is directed towards me. I need to remember that that can change if I don’t pull my head out of my ass. Most of all, I promise that you won’t ever cry because of me again. I intend to make sure you’re happy with me so that I don’t have to ever worry you will leave me,” he finished softly, sincere in his words and absolutely meaning what he was saying. 

 

Davy looked up at him and could see the sincerity in his eyes. He could see that Mike had learned his lesson and that he had a new outlook on it all. He reached out and took his lover’s hand. 

 

“I accept your promises and hold you to them. I also promise you that I will talk to you if something like this ever happens again. I won’t make any decisions on my own in regards to someone trying to blackmail us. I promise to communicate with you and respect you as well. No more of my own crazy assumptions. My heart belongs to you and to you only. I will remember that your heart is the same for me. Nothing is coming between us again,” Davy told him, gazing up at his lover. 

 

Mike smiled brightly and kissed Davy’s forehead. “I accept your promises as well. I love you so much, honey child.”

 

“I love you too, darling. So very much.” Davy yawned as the day caught up with him and Mike chuckled. “Sorry. Long day.”

 

The taller man laid them both back down, cuddling Davy against his chest. Davy wrapped himself around Mike as exhaustion started to overtake him. He was warm and comfortable in the embrace of his boyfriend. It didn’t take long for him to drop off into a deep slumber, dreamless and restful.

 

Mike laid with him for quite a while, just watching him sleep. He looked so peaceful and happy and the Texan felt so incredibly blessed that he could call him his, especially after the events of the last couple of days. His deepest desire was to beat Capparetti to a pulp, but he knew that it wouldn’t solve anything. All he could hope for was that Jack Keppler could keep his promises and teach that pompous jackass a lesson. 

 

Thinking about Mr. Keppler had Mike standing up after a time and going over to the phone. One good deed deserved another and there was a very important call he had to make before the night was out. He dialed a number and waited for a response on the other line. When someone picked up, he said,

 

“Hello, Mammoth Studios? I need to talk to an assistant director named Malcolm McTavish. Tell him it’s in regard to an old acquaintance…”

 

**************************

 

When Mike awoke the next morning, he found himself alone in bed. A glance at the bedside clock showed him it was well after nine in the morning and so he figured Davy must have woke up early. That wasn’t unusual for the two of them. Davy often called him a layabed, he liked to sleep late while his petit boyfriend was an early riser. 

 

He got dressed, trying to tame his wild mane of hair before he headed downstairs. He hated how flyaway his coif could be, but Davy loved it so he just kind of dealt with it. 

 

He was in a great mood. He and his lover had fixed things and he knew that they would be okay. He went down the stairs whistling to himself. 

 

As he hit the bottom of the staircase, however, he found himself face to face with a very upset, teary-eyed Englishman. Davy came up to him and grabbed him by the shirt as he demanded, 

 

“Why didn’t you tell me you tried to kill yourself?! Why did you lie to me and tell me you just drove around?!”

 

Mike’s eyes widened and he reached out, taking Davy by the shoulders. “Wh--- How--?”

 

“Micky told me! You didn’t just drive around and then come back home! You tried to kill yourself! How could you not tell me that, Michael?!”

 

Mike glanced around him to Micky, who was trying to sneak past them. His eyes narrowed. “Micky!”

 

“I thought you told him! I’m sorry!” Micky wailed from the door. He stood rooted to the spot by Mike’s glare. 

 

Davy rounded on Mike, allowing Micky to scurry out the door once Mike’s attention was off him. “Don’t you blame him! At least someone told me! Did you think I would have been happy if you killed yourself over me, even if I HAD cheated on you?!”

 

Mike would deal with one crisis at a time. He’d have to have a talk with Micky later about the importance of keeping quiet about certain things, but for now, he needed to calm his little lover. 

 

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to upset you! When I didn’t end my life, I figured that it was fate. I wasn’t meant to die and now I know why. I know we weren’t meant to be over and I needed to find out the truth. I lied to you because I didn’t want to see you like this… You’re all worked up and you’ve been crying again!”

 

He had stepped forward and tried to bring Davy against his chest but the smaller man was having none of it. He pushed back and smacked Mike on the arm. 

 

“Of course I’m worked up! I found out that the love of my life tried to kill himself over me! I could be burying you today instead of yelling at you! Do you expect me to be calm?!”

 

Mike got hung up on the first part of that sentence and stood very still as he repeated slowly, “The love of your life?”

 

“Yes, the love of my life! Don’t change the sub-- mmmfff!”

 

Mike had pulled Davy against him, kissing him deeply. His heart was soaring, he felt all the joy in the world right at that moment. Davy had said he was the love of his life and that was the best thing in the entire world. He picked up the smaller man and spun him around, never breaking the kiss. 

 

Davy felt dizzy as he was set back on his feet after a minute. He looked up at Mike like he had lost his mind. 

 

“What on earth--?”

 

Mike pulled him to sit down on the couch and took his hands, kissing them gently. He was smiling, but Davy could tell it was in happiness, not mirth. 

 

“You’re right. I should have told you and I’m sorry for that. In trying to spare your feelings, I probably made it worse and I never meant to do that. I thought you didn’t want me anymore. I thought that you had moved on. Without you, I have nothing. You just said I’m the love of your life and that… that is everything I’ve ever wanted to hear. Even though we had a mess to wade through, it brought us here. You’re the love of my life too, Davy. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I wish I could marry you, I would in a heartbeat.” He leaned in and kissed Davy’s lips. “Forgive me for lying to you. I won’t ever try to hurt myself again, I swear it to you.”

 

Davy huffed a little, but he felt himself melting a bit. Yes, he was upset with Mike for not telling him, but he was here with him. It wasn’t like he had been successful. He was sitting here, ecstatic over Davy’s words and that is what melted him fully. He chuckled and shook his head. 

 

“If I have to tell you you’re the love of my life, you haven’t been paying very good attention. You had better never do anything like this again. My heart can’t take it. I don’t have anything without you either,” he said, looking down at their clasped hands. It always made him feel like everything was right when they were holding hands. “You’d really marry me?”

 

“Without hesitation,” came Mike’s simple, sincere reply. 

 

Davy’s smile was bright and happy. “I would marry you too, gladly.”

 

He leaned forward and kissed his love, reaching up and cupping Mike’s face. When they broke, both men felt a strange sense of permanency, that they had just made a vow to one another. It was a very wonderful feeling.

 

After a moment, Davy stood. He smiled down at Mike and stroked his cheek with his thumb.

 

“You want some toast and coffee? I’ll go make it for you, sweetheart.”

 

“Thank you, babe. That would be wonderful.” Mike stood as well and followed Davy into the kitchen.

 

The morning passed fairly quickly after that and soon it was time for Davy and Mike to head out to see Jack Keppler. They got into the car and Mike drove them out there. Despite Davy’s dread at probably seeing Dino Capparetti again, both men felt pretty good about going. Davy trusted Mr. Keppler to handle the situation if something happened.

 

They got there at a little bit after noon and went searching for the sound coordinator. They found him in the sound tent and he looked like he was in a very good mood. He smiled brightly when he saw them. 

 

“Hey there, guys! Glad to see you! Everything still good between you two?” he asked, indicating that they both should sit. 

 

“Never better,” Davy replied, smiling over towards Mike as they both took a seat. “Did everything go well with your bosses?”

 

“Oh, fantastically. They were most appreciative of your account of his behaviour. They told me to let him go from the project, pay him for the time that he’s put into it, and be prepared to change a few aspects of the film. I’m keeping all of your driving scenes, Davy, and you won’t have to reshoot anything. They also loved the idea of changing the name of the movie to that of your song. They’re willing to offer you $500 for the rights to the song and another $200 to use it as the title. So I have $700 with your name on it if you want it. Plus you’ll get 30% royalties every time it’s played in theaters and then if it’s ever shown on television.”

 

Davy’s eyes had widened at the mention of an additional $700 just for use of the song. He sat back and let out a low whistle. 

 

“That’s more than fair, really. I’ll sign the contract for it if you have it ready,” he told Mr. Keppler, trying to keep his excitement to a bare minimum.

 

Jack pulled a piece of paper out of a file folder. It had been typed up, and was already signed by Keppler. Under his name, it showed that he was the director of the film. That alone made Davy happy; it mean Capparetti really was no longer part of the film.

 

Just as Davy was getting ready to sign on the line that Jack indicated, the tent flap flew up and in raged Dino Capparetti, looking mad enough to chew glass. He got in Keppler’s face as he ground out, 

 

“Why did I receive a phone call this morning that I was no longer the director of this movie? Collins phoned me and laid that on me, said you were the new director! Is this true, Keppler?!”

 

Jack carefully pushed him back away from him and crossed his arms. “Yes, it’s true. Collins told me he would let me handle it, but he must have gotten overexcited. That’s fine. My directions are to tell you to pack up your things and vacate the set. As long as you go without any fuss, you will receive payment for your work. You will not receive any credit for this film, however. You’re finished as a director, washed up. Your behaviour has been appalling for the last few years. We have many accounts of unforgivable misconduct and the production company doesn’t want you as a liability anymore. So please leave. You’ll receive your pay in a check form by the end of the week.”

 

As he had spoken, Capparetti’s face had gotten redder and redder as his anger built. His eyes flicked to Davy, who had grabbed Mike’s hand when the ex-director had come in.

 

“This is because of you, isn’t it? You opened your mouth. Let me tell you--”

 

“Dino!” Jack snapped. “You don’t get to talk to him. You talk to me. He was the last straw, you have done this for years. You tried to ruin them and you ruined my relationship, not to mention the dozens of other men who have reported your misconduct. If you try to start anything, you will be personally outed by me and you will receive nothing. You don’t have the power anymore.” Jack’s eyes narrowed. “Get. Out.”

 

There was something very dangerous in Keppler’s voice and Capparetti seemed to catch it. He backed down and headed towards the tent entrance.

 

“I’ll leave you alone for now, Keppler. But you haven’t heard the last of me.”

 

And with that, Dino Capparetti left the three men as he stormed from the tent. Davy let out a shaky breath as soon as he was gone.

 

“I don’t like that man… I don’t like him at all,” he said softly. He looked to Jack. “Think his threat is serious?”

 

“Nah. He wants that money. He won’t be stupid enough to do anything to where he doesn’t get it.”

 

Mike had his arm around Davy and his lips were pressed in a thin line. He didn’t like the way that asshole had started talking to Davy, didn’t like the trembling that had started in his lover when he had seen him. He never wanted Davy to be that afraid again. 

 

“Mike? You can relax, I’m okay,” Davy said softly, correctly guessing what was bothering his boyfriend. 

 

The Texan relaxed his grip and pressed a kiss to the smaller man’s temple. He knew he could do that in front of Jack and he took advantage of it. He released Davy fully after a moment.

 

“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll sign this and get the money so we can go. Just the thought of him lurking around here is uncomfortable,” Davy said to Jack.

 

“I understand, of course. Go ahead and sign and I’ll get your pay together.” Jack turned to the safe that was hidden under a table in the corner.

 

Davy signed the contract and sat back. He looked up at Mike and gave him a small smile. The taller man kissed his hand and stroked the back of his fingers with his thumb.

 

“He can’t hurt you anymore. He has to get through me first,” Mike said firmly. “That little pissant doesn’t scare me.”

 

Davy visibly relaxed. He let out a breath and nodded. He spoke lightly, but he meant it as he said, “My hero.”

 

Jack came back and handed Davy a stack of money. “Here is $4200. $3500 for the original contract you signed with him and then the addictional $700 for the rights for the song. It’s all there, you can even count it if you like.”

 

Davy shook his head. “I trust you. Here’s the contract, all signed and ready to go. It’s been nice to work with you, at the least. You’re a good man, Mr. Keppler.”

 

Mike shook Jack’s hand. “Yeah you’ve been a blast to meet.”

 

Jack shook both of their hands. “You boys are very talented and humble. I’m glad I got to meet you too. If I need anything, I’ll give you a call.”

 

They said their goodbyes and Mike and Davy headed out of the tent to go back to the car. They tried to move quickly to hopefully avoid running into Capparetti. They had almost made it when he stepped out in front of them, bringing Davy to an abrupt halt, Mike nearly falling over him.

 

“Leave me alone, Capparetti. I want nothing to do with you,” Davy said, stepping back so he had Mike right behind him.

 

“This is all your fault, You just had to open your mouth and act like such a little victim,” the other man growled out, stepping forward. 

 

Mike stepped in front of Davy, putting himself between his lover and his attacker. “You need to back off. Now. Davy told you he wants nothing to do with you.”

 

Capparetti sneered. “Aww, how sweet. Such a loyal guard dog you are. Did he tell you about our night together? How he agreed to sleep with me?”

 

Mike didn’t budge an inch even though the man advanced on him.. He stood firm in front of Davy. 

 

“He told me how you blackmailed him into thinking it was the only way you’d keep your silence. I’m just glad he was smarter than that and gave you a good kneeing. You’re nothing but a lowly, little troublemaker. This is one relationship you didn’t destroy,” Mike told him, pressing Davy backwards a little. 

 

The man’s face contorted in anger and he laughed humorlessly. “Oh, did he tell you all that now? Maybe your litte slut should have told you how he was begging for it an…”

 

Mike’s fist slammed into Capparetti’s nose and there was a very distinct cracking sound as blood spurted from it. Capparetti yelped as he went over backwards, his hands coming up in a belated defensive move. He hit the sand and blood went everywhere.

 

“AGH! MY NOSE! YOU BROKE MY NOSE!” he yelled as he curled up on himself. 

 

“You’re lucky I didn’t break something else! Don’t you EVER talk about him like that, you greasy little asshole! If anyone is the slut, it’s you!” Mike was standing over him, his hands balled into fists.

 

“Mike!” Davy squeaked, his eyes wide as saucers, He couldn’t believe that Mike, usually pretty non-violent, had just broken Dino Capparetti’s nose.

 

Capparetti got to his feet, swaying a little. “I’ll sue your ass, you Texan motherf--”

 

Mike made to go at him again but Jack Keppler stepped between them. He had witnessed the whole thing from the sound tent and had hurried to try and keep it from escalating further. Not that Mike didn’t have the right to hit him, but it was just better all around if he didn’t kill him. 

 

“Enough, Mike. It’s over. He’s leaving. Aren’t you, Capparetti?” he said harshly to the ex-director. 

 

The other man didn’t answer verbally, he just turned and high-tailed it out of there. He knew he had gotten a reprieve and he wasn’t going to let that slip past him. He grabbed up his things he had left by his own car and quickly got out of dodge.

 

Davy had taken Mike’s hand, the one he had hit Capparetti with, and was looking it over. “Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?”

 

Mike shook his head. “I should have done that from day one, when he first got handsy with you. I’m not hurt, babe.”

 

“That was a hell of a punch, Nesmith. I heard his nose break from the sound tent,” Jack told him, looking pretty impressed at the Texan. “I imagine a lot of people have been wanting to do that for a while.”

 

Mike smirked a little. “He doesn’t call my guy a slut and get away with it.” He looked down at Davy who was regarding him with a pretty starry-eyed expression. He chuckled and ducked his head. 

 

“You really are my hero. That was… brilliant,” Davy told him breathlessly.

 

A voice behind Jack Keppler threw them all off guard. It had a Scottish lilt and sounded a little uncertain. 

 

“Was that Dino Capparetti speeding off like the devil was on his tracks?”

 

Jack’s eyes went wide and he murmured, “Mal?”

 

He turned and his breath caught in his throat. Sure enough, there stood Malcolm McTavish, his once-upon-a-time lover. The auburn-haired man gave him a small smile. 

 

“Hello, Jack. You look good,” he said quietly, his arms crossed in front of him. 

 

Jack stepped forward, hardly daring to believe that this man that he hadn’t seen in three years was standing before him. “Mal, what are you doing here?”

 

Malcolm shrugged a little. “I got an interesting phone call late last night from a Michael Nesmith… He asked me for a few minutes of my time to talk about Jack Keppler, my old flame.:

 

Both Jack and Davy’s heads whipped around to look at Mike, who waved his hand awkwardly. He chuckled a bit

 

“That would be me, Mr. McTavish. It’s nice to meet you face to face.”

 

Malcolm nodded his head in his direction. “Likewise. Mr. Nesmith here told me that our breakup should never have happened. He told me it all had to do with Dino Capparetti and that nothing was what it seemed. So tell me what happened, Jack…:

 

Keppler, who had been standing there just staring at him, looked down at the ground. He let out a long breath and launched into the story he had told Mike and Davy just last night, about Capparetti’s deviousness and the blackmail. He refused to look up at Malcolm, a deep shame settling in his chest. 

 

“...I know I should have told you what he was doing, Mal, but I was so afraid… I was afraid he could ruin you. You worked so hard to get where you are and I didnt want him to bring you down. I thought I was doing the right thing, but he turned it around on me. He told you that he and I were having an affair and then you left… By that time, I couldn’t tell you any of it. I must have started dozens of letters, trying to explain it, but none of them ever seemed right. I’m so sorry…”

 

Malcolm didn’t say anything for a moment or two, digesting that information. Mike could tell he was angry, his eyes showed that plainly, but he wasn’t sure exactly what he was angry at. Eventually, the Scot moved forward and lifted Jack’s head with his hand. He looked into those eyes and it was three years ago and he remembered what he felt for this man. It had never ebbed or faded and now he knew the depth of Jack’s love for him. 

 

The words he spoke sounded very familiar to Mike. “Your virtue is worth more than my career. We could have been poor and together instead of spending these three years apart. But I imagine that is more my fault than yours. I never gave you a chance to explain it to me. Forgive me, love. Forgive me for not having faith in you.”

 

Jack let out a soft sob, but kept himself together. “But I slept with him… I did cheat on you, even though it wasn’t out of lust or love… I lowered myself..”

 

Malcolm smiled softly. “You could never lower yourself in my eyes. Not when I know why you did it. I believe you. After Mr. Nesmith told me what that bastard tried to do to him and his lover, I know it’s the truth. I never really liked him meself.”

 

Jack couldn’t help it. He threw his arms around Malcolm and kissed him deeply. Mike stepped in between them and the movie location so that they wouldn’t be seen. 

 

Malcolm overcame his initial shock at the passionate kiss and returned it ten-fold, holding the man he had always loved against his chest. He had always loved how spontaneous Jack was, and even if it meant someone saw them, he could never regret this. He had missed his Jack with his entire being. 

 

Keppler broke the kiss and stepped back, his cheeks red, but a smile gracing his lips. He looked happier than Davy had seen him the entire time he had been working on the film and the Brit couldn’t help but think that it had all come full circle. 

 

Mike cleared his throat. “Well, I think Davy and I should probably be getting out of here. I’m glad to see that you two seem to have patched things up.”

 

Malcolm shook Mike’s hand. “Indeed. Thank you for calling me, Mr. Nesmith. I almost talked myself out of coming here, but you sounded so earnest and sincere. And I missed Jack…”

 

“I’m glad you came. You two have three years to make up for, so make it count. You don’t get true love twice in a lifetime,” the Texan told them, putting an arm around Davy’s shoulders. “Anyway, we need to boogie, so we’ll see you both later.”

 

“It was nice to meet you,” Davy told Malcolm. “You take care of Jack now or you’ll hear it from me.” There was humor in his voice and Malcolm let out a hearty laugh. 

 

“No worries. I’ll take the very best care of him.”

 

Jack regarded Mike with a deep respect and appreciation. “Thank you. I owe you so much.”

 

“Nah. You did right by Davy after everything. It’s the least I could do. See you later, Jack.”

 

Mike led Davy to the car, opening the door for him before climbing in himself and starting the car. He pulled away from the beach, glad to finally put it all behind them. 

 

Malcolm placed an arm around Jack’s shoulders and smiled. “So what are you doing here at this set?”

 

Jack smiled. “I’m the director as of today. I could really use an assistant director.”

 

“Oh could you now?” Malcolm grinned as he led his love back towards the set. 

 

“Yes, the very best. Know if there’s anyone like that available?”

 

With a smile and a squeeze, the Scot said, “I’m sure I can think of someone perfect for the job.”

 

When they had gotten a ways from the beach, Davy turned to Mike. “When did you call him? And how did you know who he was? Jack never told us his last name.”

 

Mike smiled. “I was thinking about a few films that came out about three or four years ago. I remembered that they had done an interview with a Malcolm McTavish, who was the assistant director for The Lion’s Claws, that one spy film that we really liked. I figured that it had to be the same person. How common is the name Malcolm? After you fell asleep last night, I called Mammoth Studios and asked to speak to him. It turned out my hunch was right and he was Jack Keppler’s ex. When I explained that Dino Capparetti had played a pretty integral role in their breakup and that he didn’t know the whole story, he confessed to me that he missed Jack and he’d been wondering how he was. I gave him the location and told him to go talk to him today if he had a moment. I left the rest to him.”

 

Davy sat back, impressed by his lover’s memory and the goodwill in his heart. He had done the best thing in the world for Mr. Keppler and Mr. McTavish and he was brushing it off as something anybody would do. But not anybody was Mike Nesmith. 

 

“You are, without a doubt, the sweetest man that ever lived. You did something that will change their lives forever. You saved a relationship, darling. I’m so proud of you for having such a big heart,” Davy told him, reaching out to take his hand. “Truly, you are my hero.”

 

Mike kissed Davy’s fingers and held his hand on his knee. It felt so good to be like this with him again, he could never imagine going years without seeing him or hearing his voice. 

 

“I like being your hero. I always want to make you proud of me. What you think of me matters more than anything in the world to me. I’m glad I could help them, but I’m even more glad that we’re okay. I don’t ever want to be without you,” the Texan replied.

 

“The same, love. I feel completely the same.” Davy stretched and smiled at his boyfriend. “So… what do you want to do? I just came into a bit of money, you know.”

 

Mike was thoughtful for a moment. And then he pulled Davy against him and murmured softly in his ear. “We could always… go see… a nice movie about a beach.”

 

He laughed as Davy reached up to smack him and pressed a kiss to the other man’s forehead. There was definitely something to be said about being young, free, and in love. 

 

THE END


End file.
